“Out of the frying pan and into the fire…”
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Hmm. This looks interesting. ‘Fanfics for sale,’ Daisuke thinks to himself as he opens the door. Books, pics and magazines line every single wall. He looks at one a little too closely for the manager’s comfort.
“Hey! You read it, you review it!”
“Huh?”
“Press the little button at the bottom! The authors don’t work on good vibes alone, kid.”
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Hint, hint, people. 24,504 words and not even ten reviews! I don’t work for nothing, people.
By the way, I have to warn you- It’s a major sap ahead.
BTW: Thanks to Jay Man for reviewing twice.
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Iori looked around, trying to find her place, hoping that he wasn’t about to make things worse. He knew what her flat looked like; except her flat looked like every other one in the neighborhood.
Look up, a familiar voice said. He jerked around, wondering who’d said that. Iori could see nobody on the street. Finally, he looked up, his heart leaping. There was her room, he could tell because he’d seen identical graffiti on one of her windows.
Shall I leave you two? the voice asked.
Ah, BlackTapirmon. Sure. I need to talk to Sayura. Is she awake?
She is waiting. And don’t think I don’t know what you plan to do.
Whatever. I don’t care. Open the door.
Without hesitation, the barred door swung open, gently hitting the wall with a soft clang. Iori slid past it, raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and stopped at Sayura’s door.
“Come in.” Sayura’s voice floated in from the inside.
He opened the door, as BlackTapirmon floated out the window. He looked around, trying to adjust to the dim light. Over there, in the corner. She sat, kneeling, looking very nervous and apologetic at the same time. He could see trails of tears down her face; he felt a pang of sorrow and guilt for making her feel this way. It hadn’t been her fault, right?
She still hadn’t gotten dressed, but Iori didn’t care if she wore little or nothing at all—now he had to talk. He sat down in front of her, smiling weakly.
“I- I don’t know where to begin, but I feel I have a lot to say, so I pray you forgive me if I don’t stop for a moment or two. Earlier on I guess I had a little problem-”
Sayura smiled weakly.
“-So I took a walk, thought about it, and yet I still don’t know what to do. I could easily leave and never come back, but that would be the easy way out. My friends- my friends were no help at all, saying I should come back and do you—it right, if you know what I mean, but that wouldn’t be right either.”
He paused. “I guess- I think you could help me, if you would. If I’ve hurt you, and you don’t want to see me for a while, or forever, that would also be okay- but I couldn’t bear to be the one to leave. Not if there was even a chance. I couldn’t bear to hurt you- once was more than enough.”
“Well, I don’t think you should leave. And you’re right- forcing me to prove yourself wouldn’t be great either. BlackTapirmon cares about you, but one wrong move and she’d slit your throat. And I’d probably be right there, too,” she added, chuckling.
“And what about you?”
“Huh?”
His cheeks blushed furiously, though the light was too pale and too dim for her so see. She was probably blushing as well. “…Do you care? About me?” he asked, almost pleading, though he’d never admit it.
She paused, during which Iori thought his heart would rip out of his chest- though he couldn’t tell why; she wasn’t a virgin, she didn’t love him like a first lover. For whatever reason, Iori had had it burned into him that once you love, you love forever, and that was it. Probably his moral-driven grandfather, who, bless his soul, had given Iori far too many lessons in purity.
“I do care. I didn’t want to have sex with another man as long as I lived-”
“What? Why not?”
“In case you couldn’t tell, I was raped at a very young age,” she answered, wincing at an obviously painful memory. “That’s why I’m not a virgin, not technically.”
There it was.
It all fit into place.
Now Iori could take comfort in the face that she wasn’t loose, just used-
Oh, shit.
He scooted over to her, and pulled her into a hug, realizing how painful that must have been to relive. “It’s okay. I know how it feels, sort of, I guess. My best friend has an abusive father. He copes, I think.”
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago, in the past,” she said, wiping her eyes.
An awkward pause. “What now?”
“I- I just want to sleep, Iori. It’s been a tough day.” She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. “You can stay. I don’t want you to leave, not just yet.”
“O- Okay.” Iori sat down beside her.
“Well?” she asked sleepily, holding the bag open. Iori smiled, took off his clothes, and lay down beside her, so that she was spooning him. It was more a kindness gesture than something sexual—Iori didn’t want his belt or his pants scratching her while they slept.
Eventually, he turned over, facing her.
Eventually, she looked back, smiling. She wasn’t tired anymore.
Iori smiled, and brought his mouth to hers. She groaned, and dutifully opened her mouth, and their tongues met, again. This time, Iori made sure that he was in control, and he slowly started kissing his way down her neck, across her shoulder, around and over her breasts. He stopped, and pulled off his shirt, before continuing lower.
“Ohhh, Iori…” Sayura moaned. She took his hand, and pointed it towards her clit; Iori blushed, nodded, and lowered his head to her…
Eventually, he lay there, panting and smiling. While they were both sweaty and sticky, neither cared. Iori felt better, that was for sure; for once, he’d done something right. He looked into her eyes; the exhaustion was catching up to her, as they both fell asleep. He knew that without a condom, he could be screwing his life over in a hundred ways. Somehow, that didn’t seem to matter, he thought to himself, as he pulled the sleeping bag around them, and knew no more.
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Do you love her? A familiar voice asked. Iori couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or someone else. He decided to answer anyways.
I hope so. Let me sleep.
So do I. So does she.
Wonderful. Let me sleep.
…Would you really be screwing your life over in a hundred ways?
Iori’s eyes shot open. He knew the voice; it was BlackTapirmon’s. She must have floated in just then.
What- what do you mean, BlackTapirmon?
…
Damn it, BlackTapirmon! Answer me! What is it?
You… could… be a father, Iori. I hope you love her, because if you don’t-
Whoa, back up. I could be- a father? How? Why? How would you know?
…I just know these things, Iori.
…Does she know?
Of course not. Don’t hurt her, Iori. Do you know how powerful I can be when I Digivolve?
…I can guess. Oh, god, what now?
Go on like normal. Stay with her. Love her, if you can.
Iori looked at Sayura. She looked so peaceful in the light. The contrasting orange-glowy skin and the black on black shadows made for an interesting silhouette, and her purple hair looked even more dark in the light from the streetlamps outside. She was beautiful; she was incredible, even when she was sleeping. Could she really be harboring an embryo inside of her, at that very moment?
She was light; a beacon for the weary on an often traveled road, the road of the lonely. Iori felt like letting go of reality, of forgetting the possibility of nine months of torture. He was willing to forget because of the years of life that would follow. If he were really a father, then he would have a child, and if Sayura were any indication, it would be a beautiful child.
Sayura stirred beneath him. “What’s wrong?” she murmured.
He looked at her, the beauty. It hit him; she was his, not to command, but to savor. If he played his cards right, she would be his to love forever. Not that he was a control freak, or that he was some wife-beating psychopath: if she said ‘no’, he’d comply. But knowing that tomorrow could be the start of something wonderful would help him endure nine months of pain and late nights, just to savor and love her.
“Nothing, dear. You just look so beautiful when you sleep,” he whispered quietly, stroking her cheek.
She snorted beneath him. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, it’s true! I think—I think I’m in love with you.”
She shifted beneath him, reminding him that they were still naked together, bodies molded together like plates of metal welded at the hips. Sayura groaned, the groan only one on the brink of sleep can groan. Iori closed his eyes, and closed the sleeping bag around them, thinking no more.
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(A/N: Whoa… that sucked. Very short. But, I wanted to clear up the whole mess with Iori, and so, I did. I’ve sort of side tracked, and all things willing, I’ll be dealing with Takeru next. Again all things willing, it is going to be brutal for him. May be rated a high ‘R’ instead of NC-17, but you never know. Sorry to keep you all waiting so patiently. Thanks to the reviewers, and all…)
Preview:
8,9. Double Dependence: Takeru, an addict (gasp!) finds out how good it can be to be dependent on a person, instead of a chemical compound.
? To love and have lost II: BlackVeemon’s chilling tale of how his one and only love abandoned him because of his skin, his beliefs, and his lifestyle. General angst all around, and cheap one-night-stands where possible.