Work Text:
追悼 – Tsuitou (Memorial)
Author’s Note: Set after Digimon Adventure tri. and prior to Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna. Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Digimon series.
Pairing: Taichi x Yamato.
Summary:
Every night, Yagami Taichi stumbles to the Ferris wheel to sleep and replay past conversations with Ishida Yamato’s ghost.
They were always arguing. Always fighting. Butting heads. That was their thing. But it wasn’t at all what it used to be. In middle school. In elementary. Back then, it didn’t matter how “serious” a problem was. They corkscrewed through every roadblock, and their friendship, it persisted. It emerged more solid than before.
But now, Taichi didn’t know anymore. He told himself – told Yamato – it was the senseless violence that bothered him, and that was definitely not something to turn a blind eye to. Yet each year, he felt their friendship slipping away. His courage, an eclipsed sun he worried would never shine again.
He hasn’t gone to class in a week, and the others have been calling or leaving messages.
Except Yamato. Yamato hasn’t reached out.
Taichi just stumbles the city, where memories of their Digimon battles fade in and out.
Their Digimon adventure, huh? Every adventure has to come to an end.
When you’re a kid, there are fewer empty stretches of time to overload your mind.
He could hold Yamato’s hand and be unafraid of looking like a gay because Yamato could do the same.
The Ferris wheel is dark now, and Taichi is lying on his side alone inside the car at the bottom, having hopped the gate, as he did the previous nights.
Some nights, he fell asleep in there, only to panic and scramble outta there before the operators got there the following morning.
It was pathetic. He passed out each night, mumbling past conversations to Yamato’s ghost.
It is due to these phantom conversations that he doesn’t react at first when Yamato opens the passenger compartment, glaring at him with disappointment.
“So…This is where you’ve been.”
“Yamato…” Taichi whimpers into the seat.
Yamato dishevels his hair. Why Yamato let his hair go so bad, Taichi will never understand.
He misses it styled. The spikiness. The gel. The Yamato in his memories from further back.
Yamato kneels on the floor of the car.
“You’re not really here. Leave me be like you always do.”
But Yamato’s hands cup his face. He kisses Taichi’s lips.
“Yama…to…”
Yamato stands and unbuckles his belt.
Taichi shuts his eyes, and cries joy against Yamato’s falling breaths.