I don't actually support this pairing, but I also don't fully detest it and my usual pairing (Taichi and Yamato) did not fit as well for this storyline as Sora and Yamato.
This is actually my first songfic and only my second fanfiction where the main pairing is not a homosexual one. I would greatly appreciate comments on it. I hope you enjoy it as much as my other fans have enjoyed my other stories.
Because of complaints, the lyrics have been removed from this story. They can be found here: elyrics / read / z / zac-brown-band-lyrics / colder-weather-lyrics . html (just remove the spaces, and add the net ending after elyrics) and the numbers correspond to the lines in the song. The song in Colder Weather by the Zac Brown Band. And amazing song if you haven't heard it. Another song by them that is amazing is Knee Deep.
I do not own Digimon :'(
Yamato gently kissed her on the forehead as he gathered up his coat and slung it over his arm. Slipping on the first shoe, he felt a pair of arms drape themselves over his shoulders and he looked up and over his shoulder at the brunette he had spent the lesser part of the last few years with. With his band taking him all around the country he was away from her far longer than he was with her. "What's wrong, Sora?" he asked.
"Why can't I come with you?" she asked, resting her head in his shoulder and fighting back the tears. He had been back barely a week, far too short to make up for the month long absence caused by his previous tour.
Sighing sadly, he lifted her face so he could give her a long, deep kiss on the mouth. "I've already told you, Sora," he started, "the road is no place for you. If you just wait here I'll come back, like I always do."
Releasing him as he pulled his other shoe on, she stood back and tried to smile, but didn't think she succeeded. With nothing to do but watch him leave, she slowly closed the door behind him and turned around, leaning against it as unrestrained tears started to streak her cheeks.
Sending one last glance over his shoulder at the home he bought for Sora and himself, Yamato stepped up into the tour bus that would be his home for the next six weeks.
He had just finished the second show in Denver and was on the way to Omaha, a little over the a week into the tour, and he excused himself from a game of poker with his band mates to go to the back of the bus. Dialing a very familiar number, he sighed in relief as the girl he loved answered. The weariness in her voice worried him, but he didn't ask. "Hey, babe," he said lovingly. "I wish I could see you again."
"Then why don't you just come home?" she asked, sounding very tired and worn out despite the fact it was just an hour after noon.
"There are still five more weeks and over a dozen shows left on the schedule," he replied, Resting the cell phone in the crook of his neck so he could retrieve a cigarette and light it. "After that I'll be off for a month, and I can spend all my time with you."
There was nothing but her unsteady breathing on the other end for a moment, then she finally spoke in a frail voice, "And how long will you gone after that?"
She could shouts and screams on his side of the line, followed by a crash. "Yama? Yama? Yamato, please answer!" she shouted, suddenly very worried.
"I'm sorry, Sora," the man she loved said a moment later, sounding quite terrified. "We were almost hit by a trucker and I dropped the phone. We went off the road, but I think everyone's okay. I'll call you back later. I'm gonna go check on everyone."
She wasn't able to say anything before he hung up the phone, and only the insistent beep, beep droned on in her ear.
They stopped well before their destination, no one steady enough to drive much farther. The driver was still shivering and had thrown up anything he had eaten because of the pure fear from the near miss. He was in no condition to eat, so they all just sat around in a small, local diner.
"Are you sure you guys don't need anything more?" their red-haired waitress asked.
"Yeah, I don't think we could eat right now," Yamato said, smiling to himself at just how alike this girl was to his Sora. Sora! That's right, he was going to call her back! "I'll be right back," he said to his band and crew, standing kind of abruptly. "I've got to go make a phone call."
It wasn't like her to not pick up the phone. He had called at all times of night before, and she never failed to get up to talk to him.
Three… four… and five rings, then the answering machine picked up. Her voice seemed so drained and weak as she said that she was not available and to leave a message after the beep.
"Yeah, I just wanted to tell you that we are all okay, not even the bus was hurt," he said calmly.
"A bit behind schedule because our driver is still in shock, but we shouldn't be too far behind schedule to catch up."
"We will be staying here for the rest of the night, so just call me back once you back. Love you, babe." Calling her cell phone, he got the same response and left the same message.
Walking back into the diner,Yutaka immediately asked, "She's not freaking out over this, is she?"
"I don't know," Yamato stated, sitting back down and ordering another coffee when the waitress came around. "I told her I'd call her back, but she didn't pick up the phone. She's probably just over at Mimi's tell her about the near miss. She'll call me back once she realizes I left a voicemail."
He was asleep when his phone rang and the noise started to wake him from his sleep. He wasn't fast enough to get to his phone, though, and Akira got to it first. "Hey, how's it…" he started, trailing off as whoever on the other end spoke. "Oh, okay. I'll give him the phone," he said quite somberly, handing the phone to his vocalist.
"Hello?" a sleepy Yamato asked, not fully taking in Akira's strange behavior.
"Yamato…" Taichi's voice seemed so small, and for a second he wondered if the volume on his phone was turned down. Then his best friend said two words that could have snapped it right out a dead sleep, "Sora's dead."
He hadn't been able to believe it at first. He said what a couple times, but Taichi was only willing to repeat it once. When asked how, he said she was hit by a trucker on the freeway heading towards Omaha.
His mind was completely blank when he hung up the phone, desperately trying to block out the information he did not want to believe. Closing his eyes against the force of reality, he just sat there on his bed for several moments.
"What are we gonna do?" Akira asked finally.
"We're going back to Lebanon," he choked out around the tears. His sobs escaping from their prison, he said. "We're going back… Now… And staying for Sora's funeral." She always tried so hard to get him to stay home, but he never listened. Now it didn't feel like home anymore.
They could not get him out of the back of the bus the entire ride back to his home.
He couldn't believe the last words they shared were over a cell phone, a stupid piece of technology that did nothing to close the distance between them.
He'd never thought about that distance so deeply before, having never thought that Sora would not be there for him to come back to.
It was hard for them to get him out of that room even after they arrived back, Yamato desperately trying to reclaim those moments lost over the years. Gripping the phone close to his heart, he was finally coaxed out of the large vehicle, where he collapsed on Taichi and broke down into a fresh flood of tears.
Everyone was decked out in their finest black garments, suits and dressed and black veils. Walking up to coffin, Yamato was barely able to keep his legs from collapsing as he placed the roses on it, wishing he could just see the girl he loved one more time. He couldn't, though. There hadn't been much left of her car, and the body in that box didn't even look like the girl anymore.
The winter breeze caressed the pallbearers as they carried Sora's body out to the hearse, and then from the hearse to the large hole in the ground she'd be placed in. The cold was nothing to Yamato, though, as he struggled to hold himself and the weight of his dead loved one up.
Watching her be lowered in the ground was the hardest thing. He didn't think anything could harder than what had already happened, but he could that there was still worse stuff to come.
Every single thing he regretted came back to him as the whole started to be filled with dirt. He had focused so much on his own career that he had never even taken the time to buy a ring or ask her to marry him. He was gone more than there, and looking back on it she sounded so sad every time they spoke.
If he could he would reverse time and make things right. He would have kissed her more, told her how he felt more, made love to her more. And he wouldn't have left them.
He couldn't help but feel it was his fault. She was worried about him, coming to Omaha to make sure he was okay, when she was hit.
Slowly the people who attended the funeral started to file out. From one to two people leaving, then four, eight, sixteen. Within an hour only Taichi and Yamato were left. The brunette placed a hand on Yamato's shoulder, massaging it for comfort a moment before he, too, stood and left.
Letting a tear fall, the blonde slowly, remorsefully, sang, "42/43/44/45/46/47/48."
A small light started on the tombstone, growing in size and intensity by the second. To block it out once it got blinding he lifted a now-heavy hand in front of his eyes, squinting to try and see what was going on.
"Yamato!" a woman's voice rang out strong and surprised; a very familiar female voice.
The light was almost immediately replaced by a pair of hands and the worried face of his redheaded lover. "Sora? But, how?" he asked, wincing strongly as he found his chest hurt greatly.
"Just rest, Yamato," she said, laying his hand down next to his body. When had he moved from a sitting position to laying down?
"But you… you died," he choked, coughing as his ribs hurt, which only caused more pain.
"I'm just fine Yamato," she said sweetly. "You're the one who was hurt."
He turned his head slightly to face her, and it was only then he noticed the clean, white room and the smell of disinfectants. "Where am I? What do you mean I was hurt? The trucker… he hit you."
"You're in the hospital," she said, tears of pure joy starting at the corners of her eyes. "I wasn't hit by the trucker. You were." At this point there were twin streams running down her cheeks, and Yamato tried to reach up to wipe them away. She stopped him, though, and made his hands stay by his sides. "A trucker fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into the back of your bus. You broke several ribs, your right leg, too, several lacerated organs, a bad head injury and… and were in a coma for the last three months."
Staring up at her as if her story was ludicrous, he again felt the painful throbbing in his body. Her story had to be true. He didn't want to believe it wasn't because the story he had just seen was much worse than it.
Reaching up to pull her down into a hug despite her protests, he put his mouth right next to her ear and asked, "Will you marry me?"
Kind of an abrupt ending, but I don't think it needs to go any farther.
Just realized that I hadn't spaced the thing right, and that the last line was supposed to be "I'll never leave you again." I think "Will you marry me?" works too, though.
Reviews are wanted and appreciated!