Disclaimer: The characters, items, places etc of Digimon are property of Toei Ltd. These objects are used without permission for entertainment only, not for making money. No infringement is intended.
as the clouds have gone to sleep
Angels can be seen in heaven's keep
Alone in fear they question why
Goddamn not an angel when I die
Angels live, they never die
Apart from us, behind the sky
They're fading souls who've turned to ice
So ashen white in paradise
Goddamn an angel when I die
Heaven must be hell in the sky
Rammstein; Engel (English Version)
Firstly, the song lyric above comes from a German song named Engel (it means Angel in English). However, the band released an English version, and the translation differed from the original. So, I used the English version; the verses rhymed in it *grins*
This is set a year after Solstice. I know I said I wouldn't write a sequel…but I changed my mind ^_^
By Nanaki Lioness
The first thing he had noticed about this room was how it had vibrant wallpaper and paintings by famous artists on the wall; Van Goth's 'Sunflower' picture the most prominent of them all. He had been told it was supposed to give off a feeling of happiness.
It didn't. Not to him, anyway.
He had also noticed the plants that stood in the corners of the room, and the small coffee table that had a marble top, laced with mosaics. Sometimes, when he got bored listening to his counselor talking, his eyes would stray to those mosaics. He would try to count the jagged colored rocks, though he never got very far before having his attention snapped back. His counselor was very sharp-eyed, and could tell instantly when he had closed off and stopped listening.
And then there were the chairs. They were large, loaded with pillows, and incredibly comfortable to sit in. In one corner of the room was a box of toys, obviously for when young children came to this room too, maybe even for reasons such as his own.
"Morning TK!" His counselor greeted cheerfully, grinning at him. She was dressed informally, another way to make the environment he was entering seem more homely.
He smiled weakly and stepped into the room, clutching at a leather bound presentation folder as though it held his life. She didn't question it; simply smiled and stepped out the way so he could enter.
He didn't say anything, heading over to his usual chair; it was the one with it's back to the windows. It was supposed to be the other way round; the patient was supposed to sit in the one facing it. The light was supposed to help in the healing process, but TK had always refused.
He stopped partway, and sat down in the chair that faced the window. The midday sun was streaming through the partially open blinds, landing on the chair he had just sat in. He liked it.
The counselor blinked, but only smiled and headed to the other chair.
"What's in the folder, TK?" She questioned airily, sitting down with a stack of papers and a biro in her hand. He didn't answer, and she didn't expect him to. He never was very talkative.
"It's been a year…"
She looked up from where she was writing shorthand notes into TK's file, her eyes meeting his. She smiled slightly, happier than what she was letting on. He had finally uttered a sentence that related to his brother's death.
"I know," she answered, placing her biro and papers down on the coffee table. "A year to the day, isn't it?"
"Yes." He pulled the presentation folder from under his arm and slowly opened it, producing a red, spiral bound A4 book. On the front was the word 'scrapbook' in white lettering, and TK's name written across it in bold, black magic marker.
"What's that?" The counselor asked, reaching forward for her papers and pen. TK shook his head, placing the scrapbook back in the folder and closing it.
"Off the record, Dr. Tokutei," he said. "I'm talking to you as a friend…because I have to talk to someone…I'll talk on record for you when I'm ready."
Dr. Tokutei hesitated a moment before sitting back in her chair, smiling at the young boy in front of her.
"Okay," she agreed. "In your own time, TK."
TK nodded and pulled the scrapbook out of the case again, placing down on the coffee table between them. He opened it up on the first page, and Dr. Tokutei's eyes widened. It was the newspaper coverage of the day after his brother's death; snippets of gray paper glued into the pages.
"I collected articles," TK explained. "Of all the coverage after his death. All the newspaper clippings went in here, and all the magazine clippings – mostly from music and celebrity magazines – are in a different scrapbook." He tapped the leather case. "I'll come to that later."
Dr. Tokutei gestured to the scrapbook. "May I look?" She questioned.
TK nodded once, and she picked it up and sat it in her lap. Her eyes glanced over the article, until she came across a sentence highlighted in yellow marker pen.
/The attacker fled the scene shortly after his last phone call with Matt/
She tapped it with a manicured finger. "Why is it highlighted?"
"Read it," he said. "He left as soon as he made the last call to tell Matt I had 'died'. But, what the newspaper didn't know was we called Matt."
Dr. Tokutei's widened. "Excuse me?"
"Tai called him. He called him as soon as the guy left, to tell him I was fine. Thing is… Matt didn't pick up the phone. We figured maybe he was ignoring it, because he didn't want to hear more about my 'death'. Tai let it ring and ring, but he never answered… We began to worry…"
TK sighed, clenching a fist at his side unconsciously. "But… Tai got disconnected by stupid tape, telling him to try again later. He left it about thirty seconds and tried again… And the phone was engaged…"
"So he ignored the call?"
"Do you think he made a phone call?"
TK nodded. "He phoned our Dad. I remember…when Dad came to see me the day after; he told me Matt had phoned him. He seemed out of it, and told Dad he had done something really stupid."
"Obviously." Dr. Tokutei shook her head, sighing. "So, if he'd had answered your call…"
TK shook his head vigorously. "No! He had already overdosed. You see, only about thirty seconds had passed between Tai trying to call and Matt calling Dad. Dad seemed he seemed pretty far-gone. He probably did it as soon as he found out…"
He turned the page in the scrapbook, and pointed to a picture of Matt's hotel room; or rather, the debris that littered it. "The phone, and the guitar… He probably wrecked them when he got off the phone, and then overdosed." He lowered his gaze. "We did wonder if he ignored the phone call because he felt too sick to answer it. But, he phoned Dad, so it couldn't have been that…"
He trailed off, meeting Dr. Tokutei's intense gaze. "I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm sorry-"
"No," Dr. Tokutei interrupted. "Don't apologize, TK. I'm glad you're finally opening up to someone about it. It doesn't do you any good to keep it all bottled up inside."
TK didn't answer, turning the pages in the scrapbook again. A picture of Matt, in concert the night before, stretched across the page, with the headline 'Friend Speaks Out After Star Overdoses'. A picture of Matt and Tai was in one corner of the page too, smaller.
"Tai went for an interview," TK explained. "He explained everything for us all. Izzy was still recovering in hospital, and I wouldn't talk to anyone. Mom and Dad… They wanted nothing to do with it… Only Tai could fill the gaps in. And he did. He didn't tell them he phoned Matt, though. He… He and I, we all had had enough of public pity, and the irony of the whole situation would have made them all sympathize more. We didn't want that."
He paused and sighed, keeping his eyes off the scrapbook. "Tai hated doing the interview. He came home emotionally exhausted and in tears, and refused to do any more for about eight months. He's the only one of us who has been interviewed. Izzy came out of hospital and kept out of the media, after Tai told him about his own interview…" He shuddered slightly. "Tai told me and I saw when I read about it; they asked all these questions about Matt… Personal stuff… Stuff that had nothing to do with them…"
He turned another page in his scrapbook and stared at the writing on the page intently. It was the front cover of a newspaper, with mainly text on it. It simply read what appeared to be a quote from Matt.
'I want people to listen to me and my music, and to feel what I feel when I write it. If the words I sing can make a difference to one person's life, then it's all worth it…'
TK sighed, averting his eyes from the page and the two small pictures at the bottom; one of Matt smiling for the camera, and one of his coffin. The words 'Farewell, Yamato: Pages 3,4,5,6,7' were written underneath.
"The papers always tried to make it more poignant," TK said softly. "Yet, I don't think they realized how much they were hurting us; his family and friends…"
Dr. Tokutei nodded, admitting to herself that the paper had made her pity the brother of the boy before her. She had looked into what had happened on a professional basis, and like all good counselors, always made sure she didn't become personally affected. Yet, with situations like this, it was always hard not to have a pang of remorse and sadness for the blonde with a promising career ahead of him.
"I don't get why he did it…" TK said, suddenly slamming the scrapbook shut. "He was always the sensible one; he was the one who lectured me on drugs and drink and all that other bad stuff. He made me see sense, yet he did something so utterly senseless…"
"It was a cruel trick played on him," Dr. Tokutei explained softly. "Something that made him believe you'd been taken from him, TK. He obviously thought that life wasn't worth living unless you were there to share it."
TK didn't respond, staring at the mosaic table with his hands clenched into fists. He had his eyes closed, though he was visibly shaking.
"TK," Dr. Tokutei said, yet he didn't look at her. "If you're not ready, don't talk," she continued. "If you can't do this right now, you don't have to."
The blonde boy suddenly stood, closing the scrapbook in front of him and pushing it across the desk, along with the leather binder.
"T-There's another one in there," he said, his voice shaking and his eyes still firmly closed. "With magazine a-articles in it… I'll collect them next week…" He opened his eyes and for a moment, Dr. Tokutei could have sworn she was staring into his soul. "Take a look. Have a look through and I'll talk to you next week."
He blinked away tears, turning his gaze from Dr. Tokutei. She made no move to comfort him, or get up; she had learnt TK shied away from that. She simply looked at him and, when he met her gaze again, she nodded.
"Okay, TK," she said, picking up the scrapbooks and putting them into her briefcase. "I'll do that."
TK nodded and turned, half-walking and half-running from the room. Dr. Tokutei stared after him a moment before shaking her head softly, feeling immense amounts of pity for him.
Picking up her clipboard and biro, she hesitated a moment before deciding what to write on TK's progress report.
One year to the date. No change and no progress.
Author's Notes: This was born after Kate (aka Yama Luvr) e-mailed me and mentioned the newspaper article said the attacker fled after his last conversation with Matt, yet the phone rang AFTER that. I had intentionally put that in, hoping someone would notice and figure it was Tai or TK phoning. Of course, I was very happy when someone DID pick up on it, and decided to write this to clear things up a little for those who didn't ^_^
Comments to Nanaki_Lioness@hotmail.com or reviews below would be appreciated! ^^