*** Disclaimer: Digimon's not mine. But that Infermon card I got for 'free' for going to the Digimon Movie debacle is.
Oddly enough, I'm not a tremendous fan of the "Taiora" genre. I think it's a little too obvious, if you ask me. But, as I've probably said before, I try not to let any situation constrain me if it helps to tell the tale. Tai x Sora just seemed to work best for this.
Yeah, like its predecessor, this story is still rather Americanized. So if you see strange things like tuna casserole with peas instead of sushi, don't be surprised. Though you are quite free to be grossed out. o.o ***
down my dreams the velvet raven flies
so i hold on
-- lake of tears
"We Knew It Was Coming"
Somehow I managed to tame my hair down so it was only a small rats' nest, the day of the funeral. Dressed in stiffly ironed slacks and a blazer that smelled of mothballs, I felt itchy and uncomfortable, out of place. My mother had to knot my tie correctly.
Everyone turned out for the funeral, even Matt, who'd flown in from Los Angeles. His hair was down to his chin, he'd grown a small goatee, and he raised an awkward hand to my shoulder as he greeted me at the door to the funeral home.
"We all knew this was coming, Tai," he said in his raspy, cigarette-hoarse voice, "but it's still a shock. I'm so sorry, man."
I tried to give him a flippant shrug in return, but I couldn't muster the false emotion. "There's nothing that could have been done," I murmured. "Thanks for showing up. I appreciate it."
I stood at the back of the home as the priest said a few words over the tiny white casket, such a small bed of final rest for the lifeless baby within. Sora sat with her mother, face stark white and eyes tearless, her back ramrod straight. I wanted to comfort her, but just couldn't risk the angry glare of Mrs. Takenouchi. I would go to her later. For now, I didn't have the strength to brave the wrath of Sora's mother, who likely blamed the child's death on me.
Mimi sat between Joe and Izzy, the two boys giving her comfort as she sobbed into a pile of tissues, Izzy clinging to her hand and Joe's arm looped around her shoulders. Death had always been a tender subject with her, and even the far-removed demise of her best friend's child hit her hard. She'd so looked forward to showering the child with gifts when she first learned Sora was pregnant, but she'd grown withdrawn when we learned that the baby would not survive the fatal birth defect. Mimi had given us several presents anyway, and the baby was going to be buried with a blue teddy bear she'd originally wrapped in delicate tissue paper.
My arms crossed tightly over my chest as the priest said his final words, just before we were to board the limousines to the cemetery. I bit hard against my lip, forcing myself to keep from weeping. I'd known the baby was going to die, I'd prepared months in advance myself for this moment. But it still wasn't easy. It was nothing like I'd imagined it to be.
I felt a hand on my shoulder again, and forced my head to turn. I gazed into the icy blue and teary eyes of Matt, who'd once been my closest friend before he'd moved to LA to further his music career.
"It's okay, Tai," he said softly, swiping at his own brimming eyes with a tissue. "Let it go."
Matt had once sworn he'd never cry in front of anyone, ever, and the realization that he was now weeping hit me the hardest, like a sharp punch to the stomach. "Yamato, why?" I whispered, feeling hot tears already flowing down my cheeks.
He didn't answer, only slipped his arm around my shoulder as I cried for him, for our lost childhood, for missed opportunities... and especially for my child, Taichi Joseph Takenouchi, who would be buried beneath a pile of flowers and earth later today.
"Run to Her"
Izzy met me at the door to Sora's apartment, where we were holding a post-funeral gathering, looking awkward and a little prim in his grey suit and black yarmulke. He held a glass plate with something bright red and shimmering within the opaque cover.
"I, um, brought jello," he murmured, cheeks flushing the same shade as the quivering mass within. "I know it's silly."
"That's okay," I said, forcing a laugh. Under different circumstances, it would have been a funny gesture of Izzy's. "TK brought tuna casserole."
"With or without peas?" he asked, lifting his dark eyes up to meet mine, as if testing the waters for a joke.
"With."
Izzy wrinkled his nose and forced a smile of his own. "Gross," he murmured and pushed his way into the tiny apartment, heading straight to the table to put down his jello mould.
"How are you holding up, big brother?" came a soft feminine voice beside me. I looked down into the dark brown eyes, mirrors of my own, of my sister Kari.
"As well as can be expected, I suppose," I said, slumping my tall frame against the doorway. Thankfully, there weren't many more people to greet, as mostly everyone at the funeral had jammed into the apartment a good half hour before.
"He's gone to a better place, Tai," she said. Even at eighteen, she was a weird kid, as if she possessed a supernatural strength and a Buddhist's patience beyond her years.
I sighed and nodded. "No matter how much I tried to prepare myself, it's still not enough. I realize that now."
"You'll grieve," she said, inclining her head on her skinny neck like a bird. "It'll be hard, but you'll get through it. It's Sora that I'm worried about."
I nodded and ran a hand through my hair, the ends of it already starting to stick up wildly. "I'm worried, too. But her mother won't let me get near her."
"You made mistakes," she said, her voice both hollow and heartfelt at the same time, a paradox that she pulled off with ease. "Mrs. Takenouchi will forgive you, given time."
"I hope so, kiddo. And I hope I can make amends."
"You still love Sora."
I choked out a half-sarcastic laugh. "Of course I do. She's my world."
"Then show her. Stop running from her, Tai. Run to her."
"If only it were that easy, Kari. If only."
"Putting Away the Casserole"
By the time everyone had cleared out of the apartment, it was nearly 9:00 at night, and even though my stomach churned with apprehension, I helped Mrs. Takenouchi clean up the aftermath of the gathering. Sora remained on the couch, her fingers laced tightly together in her lap, as unmoving now as she had been throughout the gather.
Mrs. Takenouchi's lips were set in a thin line as she cleaned up the living room, so I took to wrapping up the leftover food in the kitchen. As I pulled a thin layer of saran wrap over the mostly untouched tuna casserole from TK, Matt's brother, I heard Sora's mother's footsteps before she paused in the doorway to the kitchen.
"Go home, Tai," she said, keeping her tight voice as gentle as she could manage.
"The place is a mess," I said, turning and shifting aside a covered tray of lunchmeat to make room for the casserole in the refrigerator. "At least let me help you clean up some."
"You've done enough damage as it is," she said, eyes narrowing somewhat. "I'm sorry for your loss, but I can manage my daughter from here. When you left her three months ago, you forfeited your rights to help her."
"I didn't know what else to do, ma'am," I said, hanging my head. I knew the moment I walked out on Sora, pregnant with a child doomed to die, that it was the wrong thing to do, but I did it anyway. I was a fool.
"Maybe you should have kept your hands to yourself in the first place," she uttered. "Please, Tai. Just leave."
"No, Mama," came a whispery voice from behind Mrs. Takenouchi. She and I both turned to see Sora standing shakily in the hallway, pale and looking as if she might topple over at any moment.
Her mother's brows knitted. "Sora?"
"I want him to stay, Mama." She turned her large, brown, imploring eyes to me, filled with grief and needfulness. "Please, Tai, don't go?"
"I -- won't," I murmured, feeling my cheeks flushing.
Sora retreated to her solitude on the couch, once again lapsing into that dark world of her thoughts, her fingers lacing over her now-empty womb which had once carried nine months of life. Mrs. Takenouchi left the doorway and returned to the living room, where she noisily threw empty plastic cups and half-eaten paper plates of food into a garbage bag.
"A Moment of Lucidity"
"Come on, Sora," I whispered to the still figure on the couch, a girl whose eyes had glazed over, unreachable. Mrs. Takenouchi had left me with her, grudgingly, fifteen minutes ago. "Let's get you to bed."
She nodded numbly and rose to her feet, walking mechanically to the bedroom and bending her frame down to sit on the bed. Biting on my lower lip, I removed her shoes and slowly unbuttoned the dark blouse she'd worn to the cemetery. First her blouse, then her bra and skirt fell to the ground in a haphazard pile. Finally, I slid off her stockings, trying my best not to catch my fingernails in the delicate fabric, and helped her beneath the warm comforter. Throughout it all, she moved her body in accordance with mine, limp like a rag doll.
I brushed back her hair and kissed her forehead, and for a brief second, I saw her return to reality and give me a grateful smile. Then, the lucidity was gone, and she closed her eyes to sleep.
I returned to the couch, alone, pulled up a thin, scratchy blanket usually reserved for guests, and I pressed my fingers hard against my eyes to keep from crying.
"Sora's Bath"
Over the weeks, Sora improved steadily, though slowly. Some days she would make her bed and remember to wash her hair, while other times I would have to feed her like a child. Every night, I slept on the couch underneath that woolen blanket, still too afraid to join Sora in the bed we'd shared not even a year ago.
When I went to work, heading back to the office to take more abuse as the newspaper's editorial assistant, I'd left her in the process of drawing a bath. It had been a good day for her -- she was quite lucid and talking amiably, even considering leaving the apartment to go shopping. By the time I left for work, I was happy for her and felt safe enough to leave her to her own devices.
Maybe it was a mistake to leave her alone, but I couldn't take off more time without losing vacation days. I returned home late, too late for my liking, and the apartment was silent.
"Sora?" I called, looking through the living room, then the kitchen. "Sora, are you here?"
Hearing no response, I padded down the hall and poked my head into her bedroom, thinking she might be asleep, but she wasn't there either. Finally, the closed door to the bathroom caught my eye.
I tapped lightly on the door. "Sora? Are you in there?" I asked. There was still no response, and I was starting to get slightly worried. I knocked on the door louder, and rattled the locked doorknob. "Sora? Come on, if you're indecent, just say so!"
By then, all sorts of unprecedented thoughts were going through my head. Maybe she'd fallen, or, even worse, had deliberately hurt herself. Closing my eyes tightly, I thrust my shoulder against the door frame, hitting it twice before the lock gave out beneath my weight, leaving a splintered spray of wood where the lock had been.
"Sora..." I whispered, as I beheld the sight before me.
She'd slipped back into herself again, and was sitting up in the bathtub, naked and shaking. I could see just how frail she'd gotten in a span of three weeks, even losing the extra paunch she'd gained from the pregnancy. Her skin bore tight gooseflesh, and her lips were tinged a light blue. I fell to my knees and dipped my fingers into the icy water surrounding her, pulling the plug to the tub to let the water fall away. I figured she'd escaped into herself just after she'd filled the tub earlier that morning, and had been sitting there, shaking and with glazed eyes, ever since.
Sora turned as I hooked my arms beneath her shoulders and knees, gingerly lifting her shivering, waterlogged body from the tub. "Tai?" she murmured, forcing the word out in a breathy whisper through her twitching lips. "I -- was just thinking. That's all."
I carried her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed, not caring how wet the comforter got -- I had to warm her up as quickly as possible.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, huddling her body within the covers that I wrapped around her shoulders. I could see tears sliding down her cheeks, the first tears since our son died, and soon she was sobbing painfully. Breaking. "I'm sorry, Tai."
"Oh, Sora," I murmured, wrapping my arms around the huddled form of the woman I loved so dearly, more than life itself. She leaned her head against my shoulder and cried as if her heart would break. I almost felt that if mine would, with her tears.
"Don't leave me," she sobbed. "Stay here. Stay with me tonight."
"I won't leave you, Sora."
I held Sora through the night, wrapping my body around hers, feeling sad and at home with her.
The next morning, she brushed her hair, put on a clean pair of clothes, and started getting on with her life.
"Milestones"
Despite Mrs. Takenouchi's protests, I moved back in with Sora, into the apartment we'd picked out together when we were in our senior year of college. I loved her, had loved her since we were eleven and together in the Digital World. We'd gone through a series of significant others, lovers, and one night stands, but in the end we always returned to each other.
Sora took a job in advertising sales, which was a far cry from her training in business, but it suited her well. And her commission brought home much more than my wages as an editorial assistant who'd one day hoped to become a full-time reporter.
It took her a few months to warm up to me completely again. Each night I'd climb into bed with her, but she wouldn't allow either of us a moment of intimacy. Perhaps she was frightened of an "accident," as little Taichi had been, created on a night when we'd been too drunk and not careful enough. Or maybe she couldn't bear the association. The first night we made love after so many months apart, she cried in my arms. But it was another milestone in our reconciliation.
Every week we put fresh red roses on the grave of our child.
"Dia-Thingys Aren't Foolproof"
I came home one evening, bushed from more long hours at work -- hours I'd never once imagined I'd be putting in, when I was just a child adventuring in the Digital World with supernatural monsters. Sora sat at the table in the kitchen, her features sullen. I frowned faintly and sat down across from her, gathering her hands in my own.
"Hey," I murmured. "What's up?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, Tai," she said, her eyes not meeting mine.
"Well," I responded, trying to make my voice sound cheery, even though my heart wasn't into it, "why don't you try me? I'm not as dense as you think I am."
"I'm pregnant again," she said bluntly.
I blinked. "You're sure?"
"Yeah."
"But we were -- You were using that dia-thingy--"
"Diaphragm," Sora muttered angrily. "I know."
"But how could you have --"
"I guess it wasn't foolproof."
I sighed, my voice softening as I asked, "So what do you want to do about it?"
"I -- don't know." She shook her head, brows furrowing in anguish. "I can't just kill it. But what if it's -- you know, like Taichi."
"The chances of the birth defect recurring are really rare, according to Joe. It's not unheard of, but from what we know now, we'll be more prepared. We'll get you vitamins, and make you drink lots of juice."
"I know, Tai," said Sora, giving my hands a squeeze. "I just don't think I can bear it again, if another child of ours dies."
Nodding, I murmured, "I guess it's a chance we'd have to take. Nothing is ever one hundred percent certain. But I swear to you, Sora," I added, tilting her chin up so our eyes met, "no matter what happens, I will stay by your side. Nothing will ever make me leave again. This I promise you."
Sora smiled faintly and breathed, "Marry me, Tai."
"I --" My eyes widened from the shock of her words. "You're not supposed to ask me that! You're the girl!"
Sora actually laughed, bringing bright color to her cheeks. "I see you still haven't left the thirteenth century. Come on, what do you say?"
I leaned over and brushed my lips against hers. "Of course I'll marry you." I released her hands and leaned back in my chair, resting my arms behind my head. "I guess this means I don't have to buy you a ring now. Lucky me!"
She grinned and stuck her tongue out at me. "You know it doesn't matter to me."
I smiled gently to her and murmured, "I would buy you the world if I could, Sora."
The two of us laughed together, our voices intermingling and dispelling the fear that surrounded us like a thick blanket.
"The Verdict"
Sora was nervous when we went to the doctor's for the ultrasound, fearful of what the test might show. The last ultrasound showed our baby's defect, and although we knew the chances were slim, we had to be prepared for it again.
I held Sora's hand as Dr. Edwards smeared that clear goop on her stomach again and started the ultrasound, and I gazed in wonder at the black and white screen that showed the picture of the inside of her womb. The doctor smiled as he pointed out the various parts of the baby, still a tiny, tiny fetus no larger than a softball.
"I'm happy to tell you two -- it's a girl. And she seems quite healthy," said Dr. Edwards, a smile lighting his eyes behind his thick glasses.
"A girl," Sora breathed. "No chance of it being -- you know --"
"There's no sign of the birth defect, Mrs. Yagami. If you keep taking such good care of yourself, you and Tai will have a healthy, bouncing baby girl in your lives."
I beamed a smile at Sora and squeezed her hand. We'd both decided months ago what we'd name the child if it was a girl. "Laura Elizabeth Yagami," I whispered. "Our baby girl."
Dr. Edwards continued the ultrasound, forcing himself to ignore the tears that were streaming down not only Sora's cheeks, but mine as well.
"Epilogue:
A New Beginning"
I flicked off the television when the doorbell to the apartment rang, and I gave a tired yawn before rising. Since the baby's arrival, sleep hadn't come to me easily, and most nights I was up several times before sunrise to help Sora change the kid or to feed her.
Walking over to the intercom, I leaned against the button and spoke, "Yeah?"
"Hey, Tai, it's Izzy. I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd stop by. Can I come up?" came the scratchy sounding voice from the other end.
"Oh. Yeah," I said, yawning again as I talked. "Sora's taking a nap, and the baby's asleep, but you can stop in for a few."
I buzzed the red-headed boy in as I proceeded back to the couch, where I flopped my tired body against the faded, slightly lumpy cushions. The sound of hollow footsteps up the narrow stairwell preceded his arrival, and he lightly tapped the doorframe before entering.
"I didn't come at a bad time, did I?" Izzy asked, circling around the portable playpen that Sora and I had set up in the living room.
"Nah," I replied. "It's just been a long day. I had to work overtime again."
"Ouch. They've really got you slaving away at the newspaper, don't they?" said Izzy, his brows raising. "But it's paying the rent, at least."
"I suppose. It gets to be such a pain, sometimes. What are you doing here?"
"The only decent electronics store is down the block from you," Izzy replied. "I brought my computer in for an upgrade."
"Well, that's great. I hope --"
A sudden, breathless shriek from the bedroom cut me off and caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. "Tai! Tai!" came Sora's shrill, terrified voice down the hall. I immediately leapt to my feet, feeling the blood draining from my face, and the panic rising all at once. Izzy gave me a terse nod, the smile fading from his normally amiable features, and he followed me down the hallway.
Oh, God, not again. I don't think I can make it this time if Laura dies. Please, let her be okay, I thought frantically as I raced into the bedroom, nearly tripping over the playpen in my rush.
I burst through the doorway, eyes wide, and my breath coming in harsh gasps. "Sora! What is it? What happened?" I managed.
Sora's face was pasty white, and all she could do was point to the crib where she'd laid our baby down to sleep earlier in the evening.
"Is -- that what I think it is?" I mumbled stupidly as I peered into the crib, filled to near-overflowing with pink blankets and stuffed animals, courtesy of Mimi.
For a few moments, we were unable to speak, shocked into a dead quiet.
It was Izzy who finally broke the ominous silence, bursting into a gale of bright laughter. "It's a Digi-Egg!" he cackled, first slapping me on the back and then giving Sora an impetuous kiss on the cheek, in pride. "Her very own Digi-Egg!"
Laura slept on rather peacefully, oblivious to the commotion just outside her crib, her pudgy arms wrapped around the glowing pink and orange egg like it was already her best friend.
I glanced over at Sora, and I saw she was fighting tears, but still smiling at the very same time. Her fingers raised to her lips as she joined in with Izzy's infectious laughter. When I reached out a hand to her, she lifted a finger and broke away from the surrounding group to grab an item from one of the nearby shelves we'd set up with Laura's first books and other toys.
Sora returned to the crib and leaned down, circling Laura's head with the goggles -- my goggles -- I'd unearthed from a pile of old clothes at my parents' home.
"Prodigious," Izzy murmured, his black eyes alight with curiosity at the spectacle.
"It's about time there was a girl leading the Digidestined," Sora explained to me in a whispery voice.
"Every leader needs a good set of goggles," I murmured back, linking my arm around Sora's waist and pulling her close to me. Relief, as well as a combination of pride and electric fear for my baby's future, flooded through me.
Laura Elizabeth Yagami, who'd inherited her mother's nose and her father's hair, yawned and snuggled the glowing egg, her newest friend and her destiny, that much closer. And so it began again...