Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Oblivious Signals ❯ Left Is Right ( Chapter 4 )

Author's notes: Last chapter! Well, there will be an epilogue, but still! Wow, this story has come quite a long way, hasn't it? I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others, all readers. And for anyone that has questions after this? My answer: suspension of belief. Thanks.

Disclaimer: Yadda' yadda'.

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O B L I V I O U S S I G N A L S
chapter four

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Everything you know is wrong
Black is white, up is down and short is long
And everything you used to think was so important
Doesn't really matter anymore because the simple fact remains that
Everything you know is wrong
Just forget the words and sing along
All you need to understand is
Everything you know is wrong
Everything you know is wrong
( "Everything You Know Is Wrong." Weird Al Yankovic. )

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He had decided to take the long way home. While he knew he might have to face both endearing -- your very first date! -- and suspicious -- why are you so late? -- parents upon his return, Daisuke had concluded he needed a little time to himself after all that had transpired. He had wielded a certain spoon tonight without regret, sides serrated and face wide, one he had used to carve a gaping hole in his heart. At least, that's what it felt like. He knew it was very silly to feel so bad. All he was doing was letting go of old whispered lies he told himself in the dead of night to trick his heart. But the maw of pulsating red, raw and angry in his chest, was steadily being sewn together with a newfound comfort. The threads were copper, coursing with a new electric energy, binding torn sinew and flesh, filling the void with wholehearted hope. A fresh picture was being pasted on his heart, to be worn from then on.

Daisuke grimaced, shedding his exterior of ignorant bliss for bleeding verity, just as he shed lifeless smiles for joyous tears. He had been freed from a prison of wool-covered eyes; no longer allowed himself to see only what he wanted to see. He appreciated, shade by shade, what circulated in those lavender eyes that used to so haunt him . . . Ken had been sad that afternoon. He hadn't been hiding his emotions at all -- not for Daisuke at least -- during their time together. Daisuke had merely written it off, unwilling to find Ken sorrowful over his choosing Hikari, proclaiming it Ken's mysterious countenance and nothing more.

His tears tasted like sharp rain, every iota of saliferous liquid choosing to group there on the cusp of velveteen tiers, before rolling down his chin and finally dropping out of sight. Daisuke could almost hear the patter as they fell to the cobblestone walkway. Meanwhile, he was thinking absurdly for the moment: What did his tears taste like? He paused. Bitter, but sweetened at the same time by his own characteristic body chemistry, splashed like holy water over the flawless white of his pillow each night.

Daisuke felt sick to his stomach, imagining a magnified Ken blessing his bedding in such a way, and his arms slipped around his abdomen tightly. He was seated on a modest bench in the neighborhood park, a few blocks from the apartment complex he should have been safely tucked into. The city's lights twinkled off the water from a nearby granite fountain, reminding Daisuke of forgotten summer fireflies. This made him smile slightly, and the edge of his tears became clearer without lips to prevent entry to his mouth.

Summer was always a time of change. Things were so much more intense than other seasons . . . sometimes the brittle string of reality broke, while sometimes it only bolstered itself by adding more lines. Something had broken tonight, Daisuke was sure, and yet it ironically helped the separate pieces become twine. The loom was being completed. Daisuke felt a sudden homesickness, then the urge to call Ken and ask whether or not he would like to have a sleepover, if he so pleased. Maybe he'd tell Ken about what had happened. Maybe he'd never tell Ken. Either way, he --

"DAISUKE!"

He didn't even need to strain to hear the furious slap of shoes against the stones under his own placid feet. There was something vaguely familiar about the voice, and it was only when he turned his head that he saw the reason why. Sketched with sequestered light from a few lanterns strung on thick wires around the park, Hikari all but barreled toward him. It was only after she stopped that Daisuke finally felt surprised by this, seeing her flush and out of breath, a deep rose tint on her cheeks, and wearing entirely different clothes.

"I've been looking for you everywhere --"

"I'm sorry, Hikari-san," Daisuke grinned jokingly, "it's too late for you to come back and grovel. I really have someone else, in fact, it's --"

"KEN!!" Hikari exploded without explanation or warning, motioning wildly with equally as crazy eyes, lip curled up in a twisted rendition of a snarl. The look did not suit her. It nearly scared Daisuke.

He began like this: "I'm sorry, I just --"

And she finished for him: "-- CAN'T BELIEVE YOU TWO!"

"Huh?" Daisuke said, blinking.

"I can't believe you two would play such a sick joke on me! Was it his idea or yours, Daisuke? Where is he? I'll just wrap my hands around his throat, and . . ." Her words faded in a flurry of very elaborate hand gestures that left Daisuke even more confused, although she sounded less homicidal.

"What are you talking about? You were with me the entire night, don't you remember?" Daisuke raised his voice accordingly, feeling defensive about Ken due to Hikari's threats.

"I was in a closet all night, Daisuke! Or did you fail to remember that part of your plan? Ken seemed pretty knowledgeable when he --"

Daisuke wasn't listening anymore. He had noticed what was tied around her neck. It was a gag, and with it, the remains of a few tattered lengths of silken thread that trailed from various parts of her body. He felt an acute pain in the center of his forehead, and ice began to creep up his spinal column.

Ken's eyes burned with sorrow. "Give her my regards," he said emotionlessly, staring outward so intensely, fingers on his wrist. The frantic voice (no, two voices) from behind Hikari's door, rising and falling like an ocean's waves. The hurt yelp and slam of a window. Hikari's tentative smile upon revealing herself. Not speaking until they reached the restaurant, hesitant and afraid. Her tension upon being touched, and eventual relaxing (which Daisuke knew was unreal). Her uncharacteristic doubt and worry. Her extensive knowledge and prim attitude, and extreme patience that she never had for him. Her agitation over his murmuring of another's name, yet sudden disregard or forgetfulness. How she looked in the theater, and . . . "I need to tell you . . ." echoing in the darkness, "I'm not . . ." Her lost eyes, hazy and hurt. A soccer ball at her feet. Green on her flesh, the sea in her hair, the scent of roses and a pillow's musk. A final moonlight conversation, dreamy, paralleled to a winter reality.

Daisuke sucked in a gasp, even as Hikari was still ranting. "Hikari-san!"

"What?" she shouted back nastily, growling.

"Does Taichi-kun take physics?"

"What the HELL does that have to do with anything?!"

"Just answer me!"

"No, no he doesn't --"

The world came to a standstill, teetered for a few moments . . . and finally crashed.

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Ichijouji.

I thought I . . . I thought we . . .

We were best friends, you jackass.

How could you do that to me? How could you just plunge your hand right through my chest to clutch and claw at my heart . . . to rip it out and drop it to the ground, to step on it as though it were nothing . . .

How!?

Well, you bet your ass I'm going to find out. You're going to give me a fucking explanation whether you want to talk or not. I'm almost to your apartment complex. I'm crying, you moron . . . you made me cry.

I'll make you cry. I'll . . . I'll, I don't know what. After all we've done together . . .

I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hateyouIhateyouIhateyouIhateyou . . .

. . . so why does it hurt this bad?

Was it all just a joke to you -- is that it? Did you like playing with my heart?

I can't believe . . . you toyed with my emotions the entire time. You were just blinding me, playing this elaborate joke on me . . . so you could laugh at me from behind your hands because of my liking Hikari, no words needed . . .

Well, I'm going to make sure you suffer now.

I'm almost there, Ken-chan.

* * owari * *