June 30, 2009
I ask that you read this with an open mind. I know that this seems sort of pointless but I've been meaning to write one of these for a while now. I appreciate all comments, though I do ask that you be courteous and not flame.
Disclaimer: PrincessJaded does not own Digimon.
It wasn't his fault, but he'd do anything to make it untrue.
He told her that he'd be blessed already with her, just her. She had married him, he couldn't be any happier, but she insisted that they have something they could share together. He tried to assure her that the reason nothing had happened was his doing, that there was something wrong with him, but she refused to accept that.
They sat in the soft leather chairs, her hand clasp like a vice in his; her fingers trembling, nails digging into his skin as his other hand made circles on her back, hoping to comfort her. Her head was bowed, her entire frame quivering with anticipation and fear.
The doctor walked in and took a seat across from them. His face was a blank canvas, no emotion readable. He'd done this so many times before. The young couple looked up at the aging man and the manila folder he set down on his desk in front of him.
"Well?" she inquired in a shrill whisper.
"I'm sorry," the doctor started. "These things often happen in young women. Their bodies have developed in such a way that though they are physically ready to handle pregnancy the brain is not secreting enough…"
His words continued on but she heard nothing. In the frame of three seconds, her world had fallen apart. She didn't dare look her husband in the eye. Her body had failed them both, she had failed them. The tiny spasms that had overtaken her body were now convulsions. She dropped her head into her hands, covering her face lest the doctor and her doting husband see the monster she was.
She was a barren woman. She had nothing to offer and that one thought reverberated throughout her mind as she dissolved into tears. She felt her husband wrap his arms around her and help her from the room. By the time they'd reached the elevators she could no longer walk. He had to place one hand under her knees and the other across her back and lift her off the floor. She clung to him, burying her face in his warmth. She had no idea how long he'd still here. She was sure he'd leave her after this.
They got to their apartment and she had managed to compose herself enough to put a stop to the dangerous shaking of her body. But upon passing by the room they'd set up as a future nursery, she broke down again.
He watched her stand before the open door and sink to the floor. Before he could make a move towards her, she had crawled into the room. And when he approached the baby's room, he found her curled up on the floor, clutching a teddy bear to her chest.
He wanted to hold her, he wanted to take the pain away, but he couldn't. He knew she would never believe the sincerity behind his actions. Still he was also aware of the fact that if he did nothing, she might lose herself in the tragic thought that he didn't want her. That was the exact opposite of what he wanted.
He had felt that they were still young, children could wait. In the future, he'd love to be a father, a father to any child so long as she called herself its mother. Any child she held, any child she regarded as hers, would be his as well. He loved her so much that it didn't matter to him.
He walked into the room and sat on the floor beside her, running his fingers through her hair.
All she had ever wanted since she was a child was to grow up and become a mother. She had imagined herself doing everything her mother had done for her. She desperately craved a beautiful creation that was a part of her, a piece of her very soul, a child to call her own.
She would never get that.
Her husband stared at her intently, his cerulean eyes begging for her to let him in, to give him the chance to try. She stifled a sob and closed her eyes before throwing her tired body into his arms and crying harder than ever, even apologizing for being so inadequate.
And he cried with her, making sure to tell her how much he loved her, no matter what happened, "Shh... I love you. It's alright now. We're gonna be fine, Baby."
The call came in the early morning hours; she was up before the first ring had finished.
"Really?! Yes, yes! Thank you! We're on our way. Give her our best."
She shook her husband fiercely, waking him from his pleasant and deep slumber. He groaned, throwing the covers off of his long body and shivering at the December night's chill.
"It's time!" There was so much excitement in her voice that he felt the smile spread across his face before he noticed he was doing it.
They dressed hastily and left their bedroom. She stopped and opened the nursery door, something she hadn't done in almost two years. The scent of lavender filled her and she smiled as her husband led her to the door, then the car, and finally through the automatic doors of the hospital.
The atmosphere in the neonatal ward was charged with new life. She found herself asking directions to a room, only to be told that the patient assigned to that room had already been moved into delivery. She was slightly crestfallen when she got the news, she wouldn't be able to see her baby come into the world.
Still, she put on a happy face as she and her husband settled down into their seats in the waiting room. It was a long wait, almost three hours had passed and yet there was no word on their child.
They looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat; it was their lawyer, Hida Iori. "We have a problem."
The woman whom they had never met was having second thoughts. They knew little about her, only that she was young and was in good health. Iori had handled all of the paperwork, safeguarding them from growing attached to the young woman who was to give them the gift of life and then walk out of out the child's life for good.
"She wants to see you two," Iori said simply.
She looked at her husband who nodded in assent and they followed the attorney to the room she had requested hours before.
She was shocked at the sight before her. A couple, in their mid-teens by the looks of it, lay in the hospital bed. The girl's face was shinny, and her hair was matted to her face and neck. The boy who lay beside her and had his arms wrapped around her was staring down and cooing at the blue bundle in the girl's arms.
A woman who looked to be the teenage girl's mother came forward. "Hello, I'm Tachikawa Satoe. This is a hard situation. I'm so very sorry. My daughter… my daughter is..."
The young couple in the bed looked up that moment and their eyes, one a light and one a dark shade of brown, connected with the ruby and sapphire ones of the intended adoptive parents.
"The Ishidas?" the girl in the bed questioned, cradling the baby in her arms closer to her chest as if pulling him away from them. "You're Sora?" Her voice broke over the name and she tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
Ishida Sora stood ramrod stiff as the girl sat up and looked at the boy beside her apologetically and pleadingly. The young man's eyes narrowed dangerously and Sora recoiled. Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Yes, this is my wife, Ishida Sora. And I am Ishida Yamato."
"They seem nice. Don't you think, Taichi?" the girl asked through her tears. Then she repeated the line, more to comfort herself than the furious boy beside her.
"This is our baby, Mimi. This is us," Taichi beseeched. "He is us."
Sora could feel the hope slipping from her grasp and no matter how much she tried to cling to it, she couldn't force herself to hold it steady. She could see the pain, the suffering, in the eyes of the young mother and father. She could never break someone's heart; she would never dare to shatter their world, because she was inept.
She would not do that.
"Your son is beautiful. I wish him a wonderful life." And with that, she turned away from the door and walked down the hallway, keeping together the thin strands of sanity she had left.
Yamato was at her side in an instant, holding her hand tightly in his. "It's okay. We'll try again, Baby."
Sora had vowed to never let herself wish for a child, or wish for something that might never happen. And soon the nursery became a studio, a quite place where she could draw, paint, and design to her heart's content.
The baby clothes were given to Good Will, the furniture sold to friends who were in need of them. The toys were given to their niece and nephew. And the pale blue walls with fluffy, hand-painted clouds were painted over a russet orange to soothe Sora's discontent.
Her fingers worked on intricate ikebana pieces, decorating their apartment with them and sending them regularly to her parents and friends. Scattered clothing designs lay about the room, all half complete, she never did have the heart to finish them. Still her most cherished moments were spent in front of an easel with her water colors, oil-based tones, and multi-colored pigment sticks.
She painted children mostly; little girls with blonde hair and amber eyes, running through meadows. Boys whose wispy red locks danced in the air as they dove into lakes…
She painted the future she would never have.
Yamato watched her waste away, he watched them drift apart until there was nothing left of the life they once had. But he loved her all the same, and he clung to that love for all the years of his life. There was so much he had wanted to do with her, for her, so much he had wanted to say, and yet it was too late.
She sat beside him in the ambulance, holding his hand and keeping a brave face. Age had worn away that youthful glow she'd maintained throughout her life, but her gentle, nurturing smile remained.
"Sora," he wheezed through the pain in his chest. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Just relax, you're going to be fine," she soothed, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"About the way life turned out," Yamato tired again. "It was my fault and I'm sorry."
"It was never your fault. Never. I was the luckiest girl in the world because I had you. I am the luckiest girl," Sora whispered in his ear. "I have you and that is all that matters. I figured out long ago that I never needed a child, because before I met you, a part of my soul was already missing. And you, you made me complete. You are my world."
"And you are my love, forever, and ever…" Yamato added with a timid smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Her lips brushed over his and he squeezed her hand, a gesture that meant more to her than he could ever imagine. He smiled again, this time, a glimmer of passion danced in his misted azure irises. "Bye-bye… Baby."
It was a Sorato... who saw that one coming? Though it had a minor side of Michi, it was a full on Sorato. Meaning this is for Kim, Hayley, Aster, Michelle, April... geez girls, there are so many Sorato fans out there. I feel bad for not mentioning you all but off the top of my head, those are who I remembered.
I know it was sad and depressing, but I've been wanting to write a Sorato for you all for a while now. And this idea just wouldn't go away. I'm sorry if you felt that I didn't show a fluffy side of the Sorato love but this is a realistic situation that people actually go through.
(Note: I took some inspiration from "16 and Pregnant", "Juno", and "UP" - all of which I don't own either.)
Please review, it would really mean a lot.