To Leave Or To Love

By Kay

Disclaimer: I own them... riiiight... -_-

Author's Notes: Depressingly odd Taito/Yamasuke. Tai is gone... who will be left to pick up the pieces? And will they be broken in the process? Daisuke doesn't care... switches from Yama's POV to Daisuke's POV back and forth. ^_^;;


There's a spider web in the corner of my bedroom cieling. It's a small black creature, nothing big or dangerous, just something trying to take a little piece of the world to call it's own. It's woven a fragile web in that corner, drifting white fluff fastened to hard wood.

There's nothing in that spider's world but it's next prey- the newest meal to fill its empty form. It has no worries, no pain, except to viciously defend what it thinks to be its home from any intruder or threat. It lives a simple life. Simple meanings and hunger.

I'm jealous of it.

For what must be the thousandth time, I curl up in a slight ball, shivering from the intense chill that won't leave my bones. Brushing my hands against the bedsheets where I laid sideways, I watched the spider with dull interest in a morbid facination. I don't know why- it was so simple. It weaved a web, it lived and ate what it could find.

Slowly tracing little circles on the sheets with my hands, I bend my back far more seriously as I huddle tighter. It can get so cold in my room sometimes- although the spider doesn't seem to mind.

I don't think the spider cares about much of anything. Except maybe it's food. I'm jealous of it for that- a dark, intense envy that spitefully eats at me. Half of me is dying to just reach up and knock that web out of my room forever, to squash that filthy thing with my own hands, end its meaningless life- it doesn't have a reason...

But what good would it do? Nothing. Which is why I keep watching it listlessly. There's no point in this except to gain some grip on reality. Spider does, I see. It's so much more simpler in my mind. Damn spider.

Choking on my hoarse throat again- god, no, I won't cry! I refuse to cry, because I've cried way to much these past few weeks. My face must be permanently stained red, the tear streaks must have dried and fastened themselves to my sore skin. It feels like I'm empty of anything, devoid of any moisture to even try to cry again. But I'm choking still, which proves my tear supply must not be totally out by now.

I watch the spider instead of crying- it's so much easier to do. I forget slowly, and my clenched hands loosen their death hold on my poor bedcovers, as my mind relaxes in the simple world of that thing. God, I want that life. It's never felt the pain- the misery of loosing... and I'm going to cry again... no...

Part of me wonders numbly if Dad's worried about me. He comes in every day, sitting on my bed as I stare at my walls deadly, and talks to me. I think he wants me to come out- he's screamed at me, cried with me, pleaded- but no, no I can't. I can't face that place again. It's to cruel, to bitter and harsh for me right now. Maybe tomorrow, Dad.

You see, the spider has it so much easier than me. The spider has nothing to worry over, nothing to feel pain with. It wouldn't care if its own children were eaten or not. But I care- I'm a human being, goddamn him, for making me feel this, for letting go.

I know I'm sobbing again, frantically burying my face in the slick pillow fabric and whimpering with pain. It feels as though I'm breaking in two- shards of Yamato are flying all around me. It hurts, Daddy, it hurts-

The spider keeps spinning.

And I can't stop the tears that run down my face.


I don't know what I'm doing here.

I'm standing like an idiot in the middle of the rain on a gloomy Sunday, under a gray sky that threatens to shoot me down any second if I don't move from it's death throws. I can't believe it's so bad out now, but then again, the rain seems almost appropriate. I'm seriously asking for my own funeral, really, I am...

This is Yamato's apartment number.

I'm hesitating again, unsure and confused. Do I knock on the weatherbeaten door, or should I ring the doorbell that looks very out of order? Do I even want to be here- that's a good question I would love to have answered. I'm not even sure why I bothered to come. He hasn't seen anyone for three weeks except his father.

The wind slaps my face slightly, and I wince, pulling my coat tighter around me. Damn this weather, can't it see I'm trying to make an important decision? To knock or not to knock... damn it all...

It's so hard to decide sometimes. I want to do the right thing, really- I do. I've always wanted to, even though it comes out a horrible mistake every time I try it. I guess maybe that's what fate's led me too- a lifetime of mistakes and blunders. They always follow my shadow. And I always welcome them back with wary arms. We people... we're nothing without those mistakes.

I'm nothing without them, because I've never done anything right before. And I just know- standing on his doorstep- that I'm going to mess this one up, too. I'll end up leaving poor Yamato-san in a worse condition than when I came, and judging from what the others have told me, that must be horrible. Because he hasn't spoken to anyone since the day.

What to do... sometimes I want someone to make this kind of choice for me. It's stupid to think I can actually do anything different- the blonde inside this apartment doesn't know me well, y'know. And here I am- standing in the freakin' rain in a thin t-shirt and jacket, shivering and cold, wet as a dog. Just because I'm thinking I might change him a little.

'Daisuke, you're an idiot. You're telling yourself this so you'll get out of here now.'

I hate doing the right thing. And I'm sure it's going to turn into the wrong thing somehow. I'm just that kind of guy.

I sighed. 'Yamato Ishida... you poor, unfortunate soul.'

I knocked.


Damn, the spider isn't moving anymore.

I swear, in irritation, that it purposefully is trying to drive me completely insane. Perhaps I'm not a total lunitic yet, with enough sanity not to sing the Dixie Chicks, but if something doesn't happen soon I think I'll just loose what's left of my mind. It doesn't even have to be exciting, just a movement. This world's to still, and I'm starting to loose my grip on focus again...

Ah, the front door's opened. Dad must have company.

The spider won't move. My hazy, deep blue eyes unfocus again, blurring the room. I think it's mocking me again. It does that sometimes, with its twirling and whirling around nonsenically. Flippin' walls. I think that if I lift my arm, they'll swallow me. And yet...

If my Taichi could see me now, he would have slapped me.

Tears burn like little fire rivers in my eyes. And I'd almost gone a day without that beautiful, painful name- a day without it uttered by my lips or my tempted mind. It's like a sin to my other sins, a million names of Taichi raining from my dry lips.

Taichi Yagami, the bearer of Courage. Holder of my heart, that was better- so much like him to have thought of something sweet like that to say to me...

It's like a flood gate, which is why I try not to say that name. The spider keeps flickering in my eyesight, and all I can manage to see is a million smiles that my love once gave me. Taichi was a free spirit, a cheerful giver- those smiles were abundant. The more to torture me with, my dear.

I'm sobbing into my pillow again.

I lost him- no, maybe not lost him. I think if I tried very hard, I could find him in the graveyard beyond the city, but it might be hard to drive to with that road. That thought makes hysterical giggles burst like bubbles in my aching throat.

Taichi, you would have slapped me by now. You would have hated to see me like this- a miserable puddle of self-pity that's drowning in its own madness. I feel like I'm dying inside, just like you did, shutting down completely with no off button to stop it. I could just press the big red button like in the cartoons, but I'd probably self destruct.

Taichi wouldn't have liked that- he liked me in one piece, he told me. My baby was a sweetheart, and he gave me six roses for our first anniversary. They're still pressed between the fine pages of my music book. The stems have shriveled, but the petals are dry and scented sweetly still. God, they're like a choking death scent, though. I can't hide from your corpse, Taichi- your thorns are all around my wrists.

The spider seems to agree with me as I cry, and I note dimly it's scuttled back to the darkness of the corner. Somewhere in the house a door shuts and opens, soft voices coming through my door from the hall.

Dad's probably here again, worrying and fussing. He tries to get me to eat. I ask him if he has any chocolate, and he stares at me and says he'll get me some. But whenever he brings it, I just start to cry again. I... I really don't know why.

I can't understand much of anything these days. Like why he left me alone and went home with the angels. That's what the priest said, that's what Hikari said, his little sister, light and faded...

God, I love him still. And no, no I can't let go, not when he's dead and gone forever. I can't stop hanging on- because maybe he'll come back. It's like a twisted, unreal circle I can't swim out of. Dark, damp oceans of thick water that weighs on me.

The bedroom door opens.

I know when I look up deadly that the person in the doorway isn't someone who will just pat my back and beg me to come back. This person wants to slap me, I think. It's just that aura, the same one my love gave off, and god, he looks like him, he looks like my Taichi...


I feel like laughing, but there's a sharp pain in my voice box so I raise my head as though it's a heavy weight there. I feel like a rag doll on these days, limp and untrying...

The dark brown of his eyes are like my Taichi's- the rich chocolate colour that burns sometimes. But it doesn't have that gentle, steady edge. These eyes are desperate, confused and lost. They don't really care what's happening because they need what they can get. The differences in the similarities make me want to laugh even more.

He's grown his hair out, I note, just ever spiked sharply. It's not like my baby's. Taichi had chesnut hair, thick and warm. This teenager, the lanky trenchcoated spectacle soaked to the bone in my bedroom, has a fiery tint to the deep mahogany shade. He's not my love.

I roll over and press my face to the pillow.

And wonder if the spider is busy spinning away...


Yamato-san won't even look at me- I knew it was a bad idea to come here. Already, in this faded, dusty room, this place feels like a dreamworld. It doesn't seem real for me to touch the light wooden dresser as I walk in and shut the door. Like an underwater sea of old times, a trip back so far I can't remember.


He ignores me, something I think I knew would happen. He stared at me with such curious death for a second that my heart pounded desperately in my chest, but now he was pressing his face into the cotton pillow. He had a really small room, really slight. And his guitar lay abandoned in the corner, piled with papers and books that seemed to have wilted over time.

There's something funny about the worst moments of a person's life. Yamato wasn't the guy I remembered. My eyes sought out a willowy, broken person. The flashy golden hair was still a brilliant colour, but it was limp with pain. The eyes were shattered, unfocuses blue oceans- I could have drowned in their anguish and unemotional pools. I don't know how long he'd been wearing those clothes, but the shirt looked almost moth eaten.


I couldn't help it- his name fell from me like drops of water. It was so soft, but I knew he heard me. Damn it, why did this have to happen? The frustration suddenly seemed to blow me away.

God, I wanted to slap him.

It'd been weeks- weeks- and TS hadn't even heard from his bedridden brother. There wasn't an answer, there was little response- I hated to see it like this. Damn it, why did Taichi die to leave his boyfriend to rot? Bastard-

But, no. It wasn't even his fault.

"Yamato-san," I say softly again. "It's Daisuke."

There is no answer.

But I didn't want one.


"Yamato-san. It's Daisuke."

I wanted to scream and laugh at the same time. Of course I knew it was you, idiot. You've always had a habit of dropping in on me when I didn't want you to, settling in my lap like an unwanted puppy. No- no, I liked you, you were my friend, but you never showed up in my good moods. Now I had none to give you.

And you're not like Taichi. Taichi doesn't quit or take no for an answer. You didn't come here to order me out of bed, did you? You came to take it in, take me in, say goodbye, because you knew I wasn't coming home. You wanted it all to be over. No more nightmares, is that it?

The spider keeps spinning. I think she's almost done with a new section of the web. A new room to her mansion of silence...

Daisuke seems to be staring at me, at the cieling, too. No one can understand me, I want to tell him. I'm going to die here just like my baby, and no one can change my mind.

"Are you even going to look at me?" he asks calmly. No, no, I'm not looking at you. You'll go away just like everyone. You want to give up, don't you? I can tell you're just ready to throw in the rag, finally able to sleep because you tried your all, you gave your best. Just like the others that left me.

The spider pauses lazily in her spinning. I think she's going to try to take her new thread across, make it wider, build on it.

"You selfish jerk."

It's a flash of irritation that surprises me. I guess maybe he can get a rise in me- he has no idea what's happening. What I've been through. Stupid Daisuke, just go away...

"You... selfish... *jerk*."

God, I can tell he wants to slap me. Just give up and go away. But he doesn't, which may or may not surprise me- he just walks over with squishy sneakers over my wooden floor. Over to my bed. He doesn't sit down like Dad does, he doesn't even touch me. I think he's just staring down at me... but I'm watching my spider...

"Can't you even look at me? I'm going to walk through that door in half a sec, and you can't even say goodbye? What kind of friend *are* you?"

I muffle a histerical giggle. Not the kind you want, Daisuke.

My instinctive urge to giggle stops abruptly though when it becomes apparent he hasn't left the side of my bed yet. My breathing slows and quiets as I lay there silently, gazing wide eyed at the corner of my cieling. Watching my spider weave her sweet web with her short life.

But there's a rustling sound of movement, suddenly my precious spider disappears and my eyes are taking in rich, deep ash eyes. They're angry and frustrated mysteries.

"At least let me see your face when you brush me off, you jerk. So I can remember how much I'd like to shake you. The others may wanna coax and soothe you back to life, but I know you're being a stubborn son of a bitch, so I'm not going to baby you, Yamato-san." He still glares at me, I blink.

He's so strange sometimes...

Staring at me. Why do you care, Daisuke? You could just walk away, flat footsteps on my floor, and forget I exist just like everyone else. You could shut the hell up, I know it's possible. Why do you keep giving up just so you can start over again?

Somehow this mystery and new enigma seems more interesting than the spider. But it's more dangerous- it's tempting to look you in the eye, to react, to open my mouth and whisper something to see those ash eyes widen. Much to tempting. Another sin to my Taichi's name- you're a temptation, Daisuke.

A strange, strange temptation...


It's a strange feeling- being able to look straight into those ocean cerulean eyes but having no reaction whatsoever. It's like he's a vague ghost with empty sight that sees something far beyond me. A freaky thought.

For a second, I could've sworn I saw a slight flicker in those eyes. Just as I crouched down next to the bed, peering at him, glaring. Life- an intelligent, coherent moment where he would have looked straight at me if at all possible to his deadened mind. I don't know what I would've done if he had- probably scream.

Yeah. Scream loud.

My breathing seems so loud in the emptiness of his room. I can hear his breathing, too- softer than the touch of a white feather but there. I can't help it, I take the still opportunity to study the beautifully blank face laid in front of me.

Yamato has the clearest eyes. My sister Jun may be an obsessive stalker when it comes to guys, but at least she has good taste. No- scratch that- wonderful taste. The older holder of Friendship has the most attractive and sharp features, a living masterpiece of canvas for his stunning face. To bad it was so blank and far gone.

Okay, you have me. I'll laugh about it. I... I think Yamato Ishida is gorgeous.

I remember... when he and Taichi were together, before everyone's world was turned upside down like a spinning top that wouldn't stop whirling. Yamato-san had a brilliant smile- something I silently observed for careful reference when no one was looking. The blonde was tall and th in, easily and nicely curved, moving with an unnatural, sensual grace...

I... I can't get into this.

Jerking my hand away from where it'd snuck up tremblingly to touch a lock of golden hair, I breathe agonizingly. Those eyes are still dead to me- thank god. I couldn't deal with them opening to me right now...

I'm such an idiot.

Even with Taichi dead and- and gone... My eyes mist over and I resist the overwhelming urge to give into sobs- I was still a prisoner. I tried to do this right, really I did. I tried to forgot. For once in my miserable life, I meant to do what was correct and good and right. But I was already making the long passed mistake of wanting my idol's boyfriend. My friend's boyfriend. My friend who was dead.

I really want to do it right this itme. I don't want to rot in the fiery pits of hell for wishing Yamato could have been mine maybe. A stupid wish and desire- god, I'm an idiot. No, no things wheren't like that- Yamato-san was my friend. And Taichi-san...

He had been my nonexistant older brother.

Those brilliant blue eyes were still blank as I sighed heavily. Why did the world chose me to bear the weight of saving the planet and myself from destruction? Stupid idiot world. Add on that I'm so messed up, so screwed with like some jigsaw puzzle some psycho path made...

I just want to touch him. Prove he's dead and leave. Because I hate it here.

I just want to...

My hand gives in despite the sobbing of my mind, and I reach for his face.


I catch his hand.

His stunned face meets mine, and I can see the shock and horror reflecting in those dark brown depths. I'm sure my own face is stoic, no emotion seeping through it.

I'm not sure why I did it- so I could scare him? Because I was desperate- that spider had been my entire life for so long that I needed my own prey? Oh god, I've done the worst possible thing, I've reacted, I'm so sorry, Taichi... my vigil is ruined... I'm awake.

His hand is shaking. I think his entire body is shaking. He hasn't even said anything yet, his lips opening and closing in disbelief and fear. I- I think he's scared of me. Of me. Now I'd really like to laugh. And I'm still gripping his wrist tightly in my hand, almost to tightly, white rings showing on his dark tanned skin.

"What are you doing?" It's my own voice, cracking from disuse and darkness that echoes in the room. He shudders, closing his eyes and shaking more.

"What... are you doing?"

I can see the way he's trembling, eyes closed and face pale somehow, not answering my hoarse question. I haven't used my voice for so long, and it breaks my heart to hear it so ruined in the dead air. But the sudden urge to bury myself in my pain and slip back down to my bed without a sound is overwhelmed when he answers me abruptly.

"I had to... to... sorry..."

I consider this, lifting my head like a dead weight and staring at him. "Why?"

He choses this time to open his eyes and stare at me. His face is so scared. "Why...?"

"Why are you sorry?" I shoot back, feeling irrational anger surge inside of me. "Aren't you happy you have a answer, you little-"

"No, not really," he falters and hisses at the way my grip tightens on his wrist. I think I'm cutting off his circulation, so I let him go.


He scowls at me. "Why are you suddenly up and talking?"

I close my eyes. Good point, Daisuke, good point.


He's closing his eyes again, I... I'd like to let him do that, go back to the dead, with Taichi. But I promised inside somewhere I wouldn't let his poor father down. Idiot Daisuke.

"Don't close your eyes on me." My voice is suddenly so hard. It's just- I never expected him to wake up just so suddenly, his empty blue eyes flashing with sudden emotion- he was upset. He didn't like me touching him. The thought makes me want to cry and laugh inside- Taichi was the one who used to touch him like that...

But now he's opening his eyes to me. Not to Taichi.

"Go away," Yamato tells me flatly. His eyes aren't flat anymore, though, with random emotions flickering through them that make my blood run hotly. I can't stop the flush that spreads across my face at the thoughts I get. Hentai, Daisuke... you're sick and crazy, he's Taichi's, even in death...

Let them both be dead together then.

"Fine," I say almost without regret. "Go to hell, Yamato-san. Goodbye."

Tugging my wet coat fabric around me tightly with a scowl, I stand quickly and turn to leave the room. My footsteps echo against the floor. I'm not even sure why I said anything anymore. It's like someone put me on automatic pilot, so there's no doubt that whatever I'm being made to do is for a cause. I'm doing something right, I reflect- I'm leaving. Yamato-san is awake, if I stay any longer I'll mess something up. So I'm leaving. Maybe for good now.

I think when I walk out on that street, I'll just keep walking.


Ayi... O.O I'm so weird! But anyway- that's all for Part One... Next part, we see how Yamato takes Daisuke's leaving. Or not. This is kinda odd, but... hey, what can I say? ::grins:: I enjoy writing Yamasuke! We'll get more of that in the later chapters... anyway... review if desired, thanks! :)