Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Matter of Perspective ❯ Ken ( Chapter 14 )

DISCLAIMER: Let's be honest with ourselves for just a minute. If you haven't gotten that I don't own Digimon Adventure 02 by this point, one more disclaimer isn't going to make any difference. So why not just go ahead and sue me? Even though I've never made any money off of your creations and never intended to, even though I totally respect your copyright. Get it over with! I can't stand the suspense any longer!

A/N: I always have hundreds of things to mention in my little author's notes, but I can never remember them when I sit down to type. Blast! Oh -- one thing is that I'm calling their apartment buildings condominiums because they own their rooms instead of renting them. Also, the ending scene of this installment is made possible by Toei Animation's original Japanese profile for Yamato. They say something about him being 'adept in both the literary and martial arts'. This is never mentioned again, and it doesn't explain why Yamato gets his ass kicked by Taichi all the time, but I'm assuming it's ingrained in him as a last resort.

"Are you sure this is the right theater?" Ken asked for the tenth time. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't help wanting to hear something different. At any of the other theaters in Odaiba, they would have been waiting inside right now instead of shivering miserably in the cold. Why did this one have to have an outdoor ticket queue?

"Yes, I'm sure." His beloved was trying to hold a conversation and peer inconspicuously through the nearest window at the same time, but he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it. With a hurried glance back and an inexplicable wince, he whipped a hat out of his backpack. "Here. Put this on."

It was a wide-brimmed, cream-colored fedora. It was also the sort of thing you never really saw outside of old detective movies, Ken found himself thinking. He stared at it blankly. "Why, are we trying to look like secret agents?"

"We're trying not to be recognized," Daisuke shot back, sounding both determined and petulant. He had already pulled on a similar hat and now went for mirrored sunglasses. Finally, seeing as Ken obviously didn't intend to oblige his whims, he turned back and whined a bit. "Come on, Ken. I want to do this properly. They'll be here any minute, and I never get to spy on people. We went to that Kabuki thingamajig of yours last weekend..."

"It was Noh, not Kabuki," he started to explain. "Noh has a much longer..." But then he saw the vacant expression on his lover's face and reluctantly accepted that this was a battle he could not hope to win. "Why did I let you talk me into this?" he asked instead.

The other boy actually paused and looked thoughtful, apparently not having noticed the rhetorical nature of his boyfriend's question. "I'm not sure, either. Me, I always thought you were smarter than this."

Like many of the things Daisuke said, it wasn't something one could really get angry over -- though Miyako did like to try. Had she been there, she would have already started tugging on Daisuke's hair and calling him all sorts of names...although, Ken hedged in thinking so. He no longer knew quite what to expect from Miyako. The once-raucous girl had withdrawn from him, and, he suspected, from all of the others as well. Miyako had made the smoothest transition from male to female, with none of Takeru's noisy lamentations, but it was a superficial adjustment. Being either male or female was easy, but standing in the middle made him/her uncomfortable, and so now he spent most of his time in the company of those who did not realize that he was really a woman.

Edgily, Ken turned his attention back to his beloved and their task. Dwelling on Miyako's quiet discontent or the way Mimi's eyes had glazed over when he could no longer distract himself with the self-imposed makeovers or that confused moment when Takeru had first begun to cry --it was unpleasant. Something just kept gnawing away at him, no matter how many times he tried to tell himself that it would all work out for the best. Perhaps they had entered into this carelessly, but he could do nothing about that now. They were in too deep to back out at this stage, and if he were honest with himself, Ken didn't really want to. Some cold and scientific part of his mind found the idea of leaving this experiment unfinished distinctly unsatisfactory.

Why couldn't he relax? What was done was done, and worrying about it now was pointless. Nothing had gone wrong, and nothing ever would. But even as he tried to tell himself this, Ken remembered what Koushirou had said when they had met in the bathroom on Saturday: "Then, no. There are no objections at all yet."

"Do you see them?" he inquired. Quietly suffocating the little voice in the back of his mind that was so concerned about letting his guard down even for a moment. He had no intention of giving in to paranoia.

"Inside or outside?" Daisuke sounded grumpy. "'Cause I can't see a damn thing through this window. Haven't these people heard of interior lighting? Jeez." He tried lifting his sunglasses out of the way, but that didn't seem to help very much. At least, not enough to ease his scowl. Daisuke whirled around to say something more, then blinked and fell silent. He squinted. "Hey! That might be them over there. Don't look, but what did Hikari-chan say they were wearing again? When they left the park."

He chewed his lower lip, a little nervous in spite of himself. Even if Yamato and Sora noticed the two of them, they had a right to be at the movies. "She said they were wearing their uniforms. Steel-blue," he added before the other boy could ask. "Composed of three main segments. Vest, pleated skirt, and, on a day like this, they should be wearing their outer jackets as well. Really, Daisuke -- these are your friends. Shouldn't you know what their school uniform looks like?"

The hurt look on Daisuke's face made him wish he hadn't tried to make a joke of it. "Jun-neesan went to Kaibatsu, and so did all her friends. I'll probably go there, too, since it's closer to our apartment. That makes Sora-san probably the only girl I'll ever know who goes to Odaiba Senior High, and it's not like we hang out all the time. So leave me alone." Daisuke visibly shrugged it off and grinned. "Vest and skirt?"

It took Ken a minute to track. "Yes."

"Then that's them. Put your hat on, will you? And try to look like you're supposed to be here."

Frankly, the indigo-haired boy had trouble imagining anything more conspicuous than a pair of junior high students in matching fedoras and mirrored sunglasses, but if it would make his beloved happy...

Two girls walked casually into his line of vision, and paused at the ticket queue. One redhead, one blonde; both wearing Odaiba uniforms. He had only a fleeting glimpse before the couple hurried inside to escape the cold, but Ken did not fail to notice their unclasped hands. Perhaps it meant nothing. Only...Yamato had always been so obvious about his relationship with Sora -- to the point where Ken wouldn't have so much as blinked if he'd assaulted strangers with their plans for the evening when they were going out somewhere together. It was as if he wanted the whole world to know. You simply never saw them together without some form of contact. This looked bad, and Daisuke would latch onto that for sure. As determined as he knew his beloved to be, Ken had maintained a foolish half-hope that they might yet go home and have a date of their own, but how could he argue that they wouldn't see anything interesting with this sort of 'encouraging' sign?

They should have taken the first shift. He had assumed staking out a movie theater would be automatically preferable, since the park where Sora practiced tennis and Takeru had suggested Taichi look for Yamato to apologize was completely without shelter. Given the current state of the weather and how long it might take two such unpredictable people to mend their friendship? So he had talked Daisuke into taking the second shift, never stopping to think that unpredictable people might also not take very long at all to resolve their affairs -- whereas watching Sora and Yamato while they watched a movie would always take two hours. Ken had felt exceedingly foolish when Hikari's chirpy phone call informed him that she and Takeru were heading home now, only ten minutes after they had gone into the park.

Of course, not all of Hikari's recent phone calls had been so smug. She had sounded very different indeed on his answering machine that morning when she politely requested that he and Daisuke meet her later between classes. Whenever they had the chance, she'd said. As Hikari was hardly the sort of person to telephone in the middle of the night, Ken had not taken the request lightly. He took it even less lightly when he spoke to Daisuke and found out that Hikari had left identical messages on both of their machines. They met her during lunch. Words failed to describe exactly how surprised Ken had been when he realized that Hikari wanted them to do exactly what they were already planning on doing. But when she got to the part about watching her brother make up with Yamato in the park, her explanation became vague. She hadn't wanted to explain what the two of them were fighting about -- which, after Takeru finally blurted it out, was fairly understandable.

Up until that point, Ken had thought of this evening as nothing more than a perfunctory exercise. He had already come to the rather unhappy conclusion that Yamato harbored no illicit feelings for his/her best friend. Takeru's story changed everything. Admittedly, a little heavy petting didn't necessarily mean the two of them were in love, but it definitely hinted at something beyond friendship. He knew that Daisuke was hoping to find a more substantial hint in this date. Daisuke wanted proof that Yamato and Sora were less happy than they seemed.

So they went and bought tickets of their own as soon as the coast was clear, and then slunk as casually as was humanly possible to slink into the main lobby. Unfortunately, they misjudged the distance and had to quickly hide behind one of several large decorative pillars while their desired targets meandered around the candy counter. Yamato was ordering what looked like a small popcorn and a box of strawberry Hi-Chew, plus a medium soft drink. Ken couldn't hear the actual words, but doubted he was missing much. At least, until Sora stepped forward to place her own order and spun on her heel in obvious alarm as her girlfriend started to walk away heedlessly.

"The plot thickens," his beloved hissed with undisguised interest.

He didn't bother with a reply. Yamato had flashed a winning smile at the man behind the counter and dragged Sora away from the rest of the crowd. They were also quite a bit closer to the pillar now. It made Ken very, very nervous. No matter how hard he tried, he could not think of any excuse for eavesdropping on his friends if they happened to notice him leaning against the other side of that pillar. All he could do was try to look nonchalant and hope for the best -- but the fear left him entirely when he caught the first shreds of Yamato and Sora's argument.

"I can't pay for everything," the blonde whispered irritably. "I've only got enough money to pay for myself this time."

Sora seemed more abashed than angry. "I didn't know. I thought that last gig you had..." She trailed off uncomfortably.

"Oh, it's not like that. I have money. I just didn't bring it."

This obviously set her back a pace. Ken sympathized. "What? Why not? And you'd better not be developing a sense of female equality, because the last time I tried to pay for myself you told me that it made you feel silly."

"Do you want people to think we're here on a date?" Yamato's tone was openly incredulous, as if she had never heard anything so shocking.

"Silly me, I thought we were here on a date." Sora was dripping poison like a venomous snake.

"Not so loud!" Then, considerably softer and sweeter, "Of course we're here on a date. That doesn't mean these people have to know! Sora -- no one here understands. They don't know we're a normal couple."

Silence for a very long moment. "I didn't realize appearances meant so much to you," Sora said. She might have sounded a little sad.

"Hey," Yamato protested defensively, "it's not about appearances. Why don't I just give you half of my money now? I'll cancel the popcorn and then you can pick out something. If we split the soda, we should be okay for funds. Is that all right?"

They walked back over to the candy counter and Ken breathed a covert sigh of relief. Soon Yamato and Sora would be continuing into one of the many individual theaters to watch their movie, and then he could go home. It hadn't even taken that long. But when he headed for the door, Ken realized suddenly that Daisuke hadn't followed him.

"Daisuke?" he prodded. "Where are you going now?"

The other boy started to move casually towards the theater into which Yamato and Sora had been directed. He responded to Ken's question as if he really didn't appreciate the distraction. "Where do you think I'm going?"

"But why?" Ken demanded unhappily. It didn't make any sense. That conversation had satisfied his curiosity, and he had begun this with far less confidence in their reconnaissance mission than Daisuke. Why did the Bearer of Friendship have to doubt himself now?

Daisuke's answer made a lot more sense than he would have liked to admit. "Because I've been sure Yamato-san didn't really love Sora-san for ages and a gut feeling isn't enough to go by now. Why did we even bother coming out here if we weren't going to get proof?"

He got his way in the end. Ridiculous though he felt trailing after Yamato and Sora like a human shadow, Ken knew that Daisuke was right. They needed more evidence before they could draw a real conclusion, and this wasn't about their own opinions any longer. Not when Hikari was waiting for their verdict before she decided whether or not to badger her brother into confessing his feelings once and for all. If she did that because he, Ken, had been selfish enough to go home early and miss something crucial...how could he even think of letting someone else's relationship be completely destroyed just because he wanted a romantic evening of his own?

Sometimes, even though Daisuke tried so hard to reassure him, Ken could not help thinking what a horrible person he really was. He hated himself so much.

It was a boring movie. Oh, he liked romantic comedies as much as the next person, but found this particular romp dull and unimaginative. All of the main characters were irritating, the plot's eventual resolution was instantly obvious, and Ken couldn't help feeling insulted whenever the film's blunt foreshadowing confirmed his suspicions. He and Daisuke had deliberately chosen seats far from their targets to avoid detection when the movie came to an end, but that meant that they had little to no idea what either Yamato or Sora was doing. Straining his ears in the dark helped nothing. They really might just as well have gone home, Ken realized; what was the point of staying to observe if observation was impossible?

When the lights came back up, Daisuke announced to his complete lack of surprise that they still needed to see more. Ken agreed cautiously on the condition that this was it. He didn't want to follow Yamato into Sora's apartment or vise versa no matter what happened between the two of them outside, and he knew that the other boy would expect it of him unless he made this crystal clear ahead of time. Spying on his friends in a movie theater was one thing, and he already felt bad enough about that -- he wasn't about to spy on them in their homes.

And yet, even as he stood, even as he tailed Yamato and Sora onto a train packed full of other teenagers also at the end of their dates, Ken knew that this was a meaningless distinction. Who cared about invasion of privacy? He had done so many worse things before. Much worse things.

They exited the train carefully in a part of Odaiba that Ken didn't recognize. He supposed that it must be where Sora lived, and Yamato was getting out to walk her home. A perfectly natural and decent thing to do at this hour. The couple moved in silence, keeping a careful space between them at all times so that they almost looked as if they weren't even walking together. Understanding why did not help Ken to absorb the strange sight, but he hadn't seen anything yet. Of course, they needed to reach Sora's building before everything truly started falling apart, but even as he hid with Daisuke among the rosebushes, there had come no sign of what was about to happen. Real life would always surpass the silver screen in that sense.

Sora started to open the door to her condominium, but Yamato stopped on the steps and went no further. She didn't say anything; just slowly shook her head. Sora got the message and frowned, releasing her grip on the door tentatively. After a long, deeply awkward silence, she reached out a hand as if to touch the other girl's face but instead landed on her shoulder. Squeezing reassuringly to try and disguise what they both knew she had not done. Yamato simply gazed at her with soft eyes.

What happened next was too fast and too shocking for Ken to register it straightaway. Looking up and down the empty street, Yamato had tried to give her girlfriend a proper goodnight kiss. And at the last second, Sora had twisted her head aside. Slowly, Yamato withdrew with a stunned expression on her face.

They stared at each other for a while. Both looking hurt.

"You see me as a girl," Yamato whispered tonelessly. Even in the dim light, Ken could see her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Sora let out a muffled sob. "I'm sorry."

The words didn't seem to penetrate, but Yamato nodded. Sora hesitated until she could no longer bear the atmosphere, pivoted on her heel, and went inside. They could hear the pounding of her feet as she ran down the hall -- perhaps all the way to the safety of her bedroom. At first, Yamato remained immobile. But then she turned away from the door as if in a dream and walked down the stairs. Hands hanging limp at her sides and heading blindly for the train station to go home.

When Ken looked over at his beloved, he honestly expected to see the other boy's face glowing with savage triumph. Hadn't he gotten what he wanted? But Daisuke was frozen and very pale all over, looking far more sick than victorious. In all of his scheming, he did not seem to have realized that helping his idol would involve hurting other people who got in the way. Ken hugged him tightly. He was not as insensitive as everyone seemed to think.

Finally, Daisuke disengaged. "Well," he started gruffly, "that's them out of the picture. I give it another two days before they both call it quits." The Bearer of Courage forced a slightly crooked smile that only lasted for a few seconds before he dropped his head sadly. "Nothing we can do for them now, is there?"

"No," Ken had to agree. "We must hope that everything works out for the best in the end."

"In the end," Daisuke repeated heavily. His lips twisted slightly, and he glanced down the road Yamato had taken. "What time is it, Ken?"

As he wasn't sure, Ken checked his watch. "Almost 10 o'clock. Why?"

His beloved just shook his head. "Yamato-san shouldn't be walking home all by herself. Even in this district, it's stupid. C'mon, Ken. The least we can do is make sure she gets back in one piece."

They had to run solidly for several blocks to catch up with Yamato, but when they got close enough to see what was going on, Ken suddenly found his exhaustion disappearing. A car was gliding along the side of the road, keeping pace with the blonde but staying approximately point-two meters behind her. It looked slightly battered, green paint faded and one of its taillights broken. Daisuke slowed uncertainly and looked at Ken. Yamato didn't seem to have noticed her pursuit, and she didn't react at all when the green car stopped. Ken swore as a man got out of the driver's seat, and wished he were close enough to see if there were others still inside. He fumbled for his cell phone.

"Who're you gonna call?" Daisuke demanded shrilly. "No way will the cops get here in time. We've got to do something ourselves!"

Before he could even start to argue with the other boy, his beloved was already sprinting away. Swearing again, Ken ran after him. Perhaps they would be able to handle this. There might only be the one man. Of course, one was plenty if he had a gun with him. He could hear some of what that one man was saying now. It might have sounded almost friendly under any other circumstances -- but at the same time, there was an unpleasant edge to the words that left no doubts as to the stranger's intentions.

"Come on, sweet thing. Get in the car and I'll give you a ride."

The man stood in front of Yamato now, and she went to move around him without bothering to respond. He caught her arm and laughed.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Don't touch me," Yamato said in a hard voice.

Light from the lamppost they were standing under refracted nicely off a knife in the man's other hand. They were almost there, but this was going to turn very ugly very fast. Ken reached for his phone once more -- maybe the police would come before it was too late. The man sneered and twisted Yamato's arm so that he could press his body into hers.

"Oh," he mused, "I'm going to do a lot more than touching."

Not gonna make it, not gonna make it...

Just before they could breach that lonely circle of artificial light, seconds before Yamato would have noticed them, a nauseating crack split the air and sucked it right out of Ken's open mouth. He stumbled, and Daisuke crashed into him because even with a head start he had always been the faster runner. They landed in a tangle of useless limbs -- and all he could think was that he knew the sound of breaking bones when he heard it. Then the screaming began. At a male pitch that Yamato's voice no longer had. Ken dared to raise his head.

"You little bitch," the man gasped out. He was cradling one of his hands with the other, and now the knife clattered against the pavement beyond his reach. He must have dropped it, either in surprise or pain. "Look what you did to my hand!"

"It's a clean fracture," she replied coldly. "I thought I told you not to touch me."

Probably the man should have cut his losses and walked away, but he was angry now. He lunged to retrieve his weapon. Yamato caught his jaw on the flat of her foot and then kicked him in the face, hard enough to knock bloody teeth out of his mouth. Little beads of sweat had broken out on her forehead. This time, the man decided he didn't need this and made a break for his car. She didn't try to stop him.

With the green car out of sight, Yamato picked up her bookbag and scuffed the asphalt contemptuously. "Stupid girl body," Ken thought he heard her muttering as she left. "I was so much stronger before."

Daisuke climbed slowly to his feet and offered his boyfriend a hand. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. As an afterthought, Ken hung up his cellular phone.

"...Yeah," the other boy said at last. "I don't think we'll have to worry about her too much."

He could only nod his agreement.

End of Part Fourteen.