DISCLAIMER: I do not own Digimon or any of its characters that are expressed within this fanfiction.

DEDICATION: J.M, who wrote "I Do... Not", for compelling me to get my rear in gear and begin this darn Takari that's been running in my head for the past three months, thankies!

Wounds
by Ekai Ungson

Prologue: Promises

"You will be back."

"I WILL be back."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

America is such a faraway place.

She didn't know how far, exactly, but far enough, it was, because anywhere he was that she wasn't was far ENOUGH for her.

*But I don't have a choice,* Yagami Hikari thought as she rested her chin on her palm and stared out at the nothingness around her. It wasn't EXACTLY nothingness, because there were actually a LOT of things moving, breathing, standing, walking, living around her.

But nothingness it was because nothingness was a place that didn't have HIM around.

He didn't come to school. Of course he wouldn't come to school. He had to pack things, and arrange things, and help his mother out. And she, she couldn't bear the very thought of going out to his house to meet him. Because then she would see all those boxes and all those carts and an empty house where there was once furniture and picture frames and people. All that would be left would be empty walls, empty rooms, and an empty caricature of herself, something she did not want to see.

It would make his leaving seem all the more real.

Pretending would do her no good. She knew that, accepted it. She understood it, but she wasn't going to stop. She was too scared to face the realities of it. She would rather sit here in silence and dream that he was just there, just waiting, just near, and that he would always and forever be there, and not in some faraway place called America.

He wasn't yet, but he soon would be. And she... she didn't have a lot to say in the matter.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~(Flashback)~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"You're what--?"

"Leaving," Takaishi Takeru replied weakly.

"For where? And why?" Kari asked.

"For.... America."

"Why?"

"My mother got a job in New York. She said it's too good of an opportunity to pass up. Besides, Matt is there. My dad's there, too. She said it was a good time for us to migrate."

"But... TK, what about me?" Kari asked in desperation. "What about us?"

"I don't.... know."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

She had turned, she had ran. She had to. She had to escape from this, from him, from what he just said. How could he not know? Why didn't he? Didn't she matter to him, the way he mattered to her, the way she would give up her very LIFE for him?

She tried her best to calm herself down, and succeeded. He was not to blame. No, TK wasn't at fault here. He, like her, didn't have a lot to say in the matter. In fact, he had no say at all.

But it was like... he didn't even want to HAVE a say in it. As if he wanted to go to America, wanted to be away from her. A sharp pain shot through her heart. She couldn't take that. She really, REALLY couldn't.

But she would not cry.

She should not cry.

*Oh, like hell I_won't_!* she thought before bursting into tears.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was packing slower than the pace of your general turtle.

He was doing it slowly because he wanted to prolong his time in this country, in this city. He was prolonging the inevitable.

*Kari.*

Her eyes had filled with tears that night he told her. Then she turned and ran. He wanted to run after her, so he did, but she'd magically evaporated into mist when he turned a corner. And he still haven't talked to her.

He couldn't talk to her without hearing the pain in her voice, because he would gladly give his life up first before causing her anything that would give her sorrow. His Kari, she was strong-willed, but most times she was weak and needed protecting. And he had vowed to protect her all the years of his life.

And now he was very well the cause of her torment.

The shirt he'd been folding fell limply to the floor in a heap.

*I have to get to her.*

He ran out of the house with nary a goodbye or a word to his mother. He knew where she would be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She slung the knapsack over her shoulder, insisting to Iori that she was all right.

But of course she wasn't all right. She wouldn't be all right for a long time, maybe forever.

He still hadn't come.

It was hopeless.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He ran into the school gates as several other kids went out, enjoying their freedom for the next two days. The weekend. He ran past many, bumped and apologized to several, only one goal in mind.

Her.

He opened the doors to the computer room. Nobody.

He went into the classroom. Nobody either.

He looked out at the windows, and there she was.

He began to run.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Advancing footsteps caused her to turn. Turn to meet apologetic eyes of blue she avidly missed.

"Kari!" he yelled.

"I thought you'd be packing," she answered softly.

"I was."

"Why are you here then?"

"For you."

She breathed in. "Why?"

"Kari, I love you."

They stood there for the longest of moments, she as she contemplated this, he as he waited for a reply.

Then, later, "What do you want me to say?"

He took her hand. "That you'll wait," he replied. "That you'll wait 'til I come back."

"You will be back," she repeated quietly.

"I WILL be back," he repeated with more conviction.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She sat in silence and looked at her watch again. He had gone, taken by an airplane to a distant land called America.

She had promised that she would wait. And she would.

For all eternity.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He stared out at the clouds and looked at his watch. She was in Literature class, probably sitting and dreaming.

There would be no more tears.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Notes: And that finishes the first installment of "Wounds". Hope you enjoyed. J.M! Gimme your email ad, quick! I need correspondence!! (@_@)-- Kai