PRE FIC RANTINGS AND A SPRINKLE OF DISCLAIMER: There are two Digimon couples that I don't exactly ship, but have always wanted to write fics about due to pure curiosity- these two couples were Jyoura and Takori. Upon rewatching a ton of 02 in the Oikawa arc I got some inspiration for one of these. Therefore I am writing a Takori. *silence* As in Takeru and Iori. Come on, it's not THAT sick. It's only a, what *counts on fingers* 4 year age difference. Man, two of my characters have something like a 3931 year age difference. 4 years isn't a big deal... anyways, it's more of an Iori fic that happens to contain Takori. That's safe, right?
^ ^;; What the hell am I doing?
Rusty: "I don't know, but I'm leaving before this goes too far."
Jenn: "No! You don't understand- Takori is JAWSOME! Right Leslie!" ^.~
Disclaimer and stuff. No own and junk. La. Lyrics and title from an 'October Project' song. Iori POV second person. Really weird. And ignore the Daiken referencing. I can't write 02 without at least ONE Daiken-influenced sentence. Otherwise it's a crime.

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Take Me As I Am
Izzy Girl

Take me while you can
Even if you shine a light into the mirror
You won't see me any clearer

It's a few lonely seconds in the backseat of a car... here it's dark and you waver, hand shaking on the back of the now empty front seat where only moments before Daisuke had sat deliberating. He had flown from his seat in resolve, his eyes shining with the heroism of youth and something else. Friendship and devotion or maybe love- something beautiful. Something not like death, but you can't see the love anymore, only the other one. Death is coming, you're sure of it and can already see it on your hands- once the noble DigiDestined on a quest of freedom and liberation, now the killers locked in a ruthless game of survival. You think you're right but can never be sure of it and momentarily you remember the heartless one of the control spires. The being of darkness and misery, the one of coldness and evil who cringed back as he crushed a flower and you wonder...

And you wonder and shiver. He reaches out and steadies you as you fall and gasp, casting up a quick, unsure glance. He smiles, as usual, albeit nervously. He's killed before many times (it gets easier) and doesn't seem to understand, but still he smiles. You speak in a nervous whisper and Jyou's brother taps his foot against the floor of the car impatiently as his battery wears thin and the police officer simply glares at him through the windsheild.

"We can't just do nothing, Iori." he says, fingers tightening on your wrist (but it's comforting), "We can't just sit here while Miyako and Hikari fight. We can't do nothing when Daisuke's risking his life going after Oikawa like that." the words make sense but you can't. You just can't and you can't explain why not because you're stuck in a moment. It's one of those moments where your life freezes up and it all seems at a standstill for you even though all around you keeps moving. You want to speak and make him understand you but there's nothing to say except: "You're right Takeru, let's go." and he pulls you along behind him as you rush into the battle, still unsure and still shaking.

All you ever wanted was for your father to be proud of you. All you ever wanted was to be someone worth trusting and worth loving. After all, underneath the glares and the wisdom and the maturity, you're still a child and you still need validation. You never thought it would be difficult. You never thought that you'd have to twist yourself so inside out. You assumed that it would just be like winning a Kendo match (victory is sweet)- the defeated don't matter in the eyes of the victor but killing is nothing like that. You watch the data of your dying foe scatter throughout the sky with the sick knowledge that it will never find it's way back to the digital world in order to be reborn- they're gone forever and you feel no pity. It hurts more than the hesitation before hand and more than the battle itself. Killing gets easier, but you never wanted it to. Your father was noble and brave and forgiving so how could he ever be proud of a son who had chilled his blood towards murder.

"It was... necessary." his voice is hesistant as he sits beside you on the bottom step of the hospital's staircase. He's sitting too close but you don't notice because you're still watching the sky, dark with digital data searching in vain for it's world, "Iori, it wasn't the right thing to do but..." he has no words, no way to justify it, but you nod anyways and he moves closer. It's very cold so you don't mind because a fleeting glace to your side reveals the tears budding in his darkened eyes and the tremble in his folded hands.

. . .

It's the still of things after the battle... and you've been crying. Looking out over the sea and wishing that the sun would stop shining and the grass would stop being so green and that the digital world would go back to being destroyed. You know that something has changed and you know that pain never fades, just becomes so much a part of you that you stop noticing it. You will never feel the same way about butterflies ever again. You hate them now, and love them for all they represent. Death is all around you, but so is life. You feel so alive- like your eyes are finally open, but you are so dreadfully alone that not even Arujimon can reach you.

Takeru tries anyways, with a hand on the shoulder and a few gentle words, but there's nothing. You even tell him that: "There's nothing." but he only raises an eyebrow and you realize that what you've said makes no sense. Your thoughts are not exactly coherent right now, so you turn away and start crying again. It's all over, so why aren't things better? You ask that as well and he forces you to sit down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and murmering pretty things about life and death and rebirth and the cycle of life. It all sounds so lofty and wise and so very, very true but does nothing for your mood, so you just rip away and say some bitter things that you can't quite remember and weren't exactly thinking about as you said. Then you fall.

It's all been too much. You hate the fight, you hate the darkness, you hate the sadness. You love the freedom and the quiet and these things finally hit you and you just fall back into eternity, feeling the fresh air and the sunshine for what they are- joy. Oikawa's joy. His resolution. His peace.

You don't pay attention, so you fall into him. Takeru doesn't mind and being how he is, he says nothing, only strokes one of your cheeks softly and smiles. You grab his hand and hold the lines up to the light, studying them intently because they're real, just like the blue of the sky and happiness reflected in the eyes of your team mates. It's all real and it's all good, so you laugh and close your eyes.

"It's over. Takeru, it's all over!"

. . .

It's a few awkward, dusty moments... he pulls back and you feel all the breath go out of you. There's a long pause and your lips meet again. You're in you empty dojo and have been practicing. He was here to talk to you about something- a project or a story he was writing. It was something only mildly important and then suddenly, there was kissing. You're confused but don't mind since Takeru kisses like hope and he kisses like wisdom, which you thought was more your thing but maybe that was the point of Jogress and it's only the piece of you that's in him that you feel. You feel very lost, but it's a good feeling. You have to stand on your tip-toes and Takeru leans over slightly- here you begin to feel weak at the knees. Your grip on the facemask loosens and it clatters to the floor noisily. The sound sends you both running, tearing apart and gasping (breathlessness?shock?). He gulps and stares at you and you feel somewhat insecure.

"I... I'm sorry Iori, it was just..."

And you're confused again because you don't understand what there is to be sorry about and then you remember: You are only a little boy and Takeru is so much older in body and spirit.

"I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me? I just thought..." and he scrambles for words and he's beating himself mentally and you can't think of anything to say because he's still a mystery to you even though you're pretty sure you know him better than most people. There are memories and moments and silences and really, the kissing didn't bother you too much. You regard him stuttering and blushing and feeling so guilty and want to tell him that there's not really any reason to be ashamed. Unfortunately, this is a lie.

You open your mouth and are about to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, you walk away.

. . .

It's broken confessions in a dark, dark room... because this wasn't the first time. It was always so dark towards the end and you always felt so weak. (what was father like? will i ever make him proud? who am i? am i worthy?) You kissed him and it was all so clumsy and at the time felt both dangerous and safe. You were talking and he was making too much sense and it really felt like the only thing to do so you leaned across the bed and kissed him. Not that you knew what you were doing, being only eight years old, but you tried it anyways and he drew away immedietly. You leaned back a bit dissapointed and tried to make excuses, but the ramblings were cut short as he kissed you again. At that moment you sunk and at that moment you rose and at that moment you wanted everything and nothing at the same time but weren't quite sure what everything was, though you were pretty sure that you'd seen nothing several times in your life already.

Your heart clenched because you weren't sure if that's what you really wanted. Things are always complicated with you and you often think in terms of how others think of you and what your father would have thought.

So there's the questions: 'What would father think if he knew I was holed up in my bedroom kissing a boy four years older than me? What would he ever think of Takeru if he met him?'

Which question here is the more important one?

Well, Takeru is Takeru. Takeru Takaishi, child of Hope and DigiDestined. Takeru who hides his darkness. Takeru who bottles his anger. Takeru who is both passionate and dispassionate- indifferent, but caring. Takeru who is sometimes the leader, sometimes the follower. Takeru who does not deny the darkness he hides inside him but uses it to his advantage. Sometimes merciful, sometimes ruthless but always what he is when he needs to be it. Takeru who understands the Digiworld so well. Takeru who understands everything and everyone so well but never allows anyone to know him...

... except you. Or maybe that's just you being caught up in the moment. So in the end, Takeru is simply Takeru and Iori is simply Iori and does it really matter what your father would think?

And after the fact, there was a quick seperation of heart and mind because neither of you knew exactly what had happened or exactly what would become of it, so you just decided that it would be easier not to talk about it.

. . .

It's a few apologies too many... and you think that maybe it's time for Takeru to change his mantra. You straighten the sheets of your homework, all neatly printed and correctly solved math problems, and do not turn to see him as he stands in your doorway, abashed and nervous. You say nothing and wait for him to fill in the blanks. He fiddles with the edges of his stuffy high school uniform and runs a hand through his hair. You can tell that he knows he's being judged. He knows that you're preparing to make a decision but he doesn't know what you want to hear.

That's okay, because Takeru is talented with emotions and not words. He knows how to relieve pressure, but not how to deal with it. You'll give him three tries but only because you're fond of him.

"I... I'm sorry..."

Sorry's just not good enough anymore, Takeru. Wrong thing to say.

"Why don't we just forget anything ever happened?"

Even worse. Once more and then we'll be finished with all this.

"I don't know what to say, Iori except... I don't know. I think I love you."

Dammnit. You got it right Takeru. Why didn't you just quit while I was ahead...

fin.

POST FIC REFLECTIONS: Wow. That was just weird and got weirder. I kind of like writing this couple although I don't really ship it. Okay, well I suppose I'm sort of a Jyoura shipper, so I can sort of be a Takori shipper. Yeah- this was a bit of an experiment, so I'm not sure what I really think of it. That's why I need YOUR help! *silence*
*cough* That was a hint. You know: wink, wink, nudge, nudge?
Rusty: *overloud whisper* "I think she wants you to review!"
*sincerely
Jenn Sparky Young
aka Izzy Girl
aka Cephied Variable
[email protected]

ff.n ID#12217 (Izzy Girl)
ff.p ID#12217 (Cephied Variable)