Something Missing

A/N: Once again, love to my reviewers. You guys are the reason I’m writing this.


Chapter Five: Sucker Punches

The arcade was noisy, the air a little stale. Taichi yawned in a red vinyl booth in the food court area, Yamato sitting across from him looking like he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. They were playing chaperones; Taichi’s parents had caught Hikari and Takeru in a position of the half-naked nature and now they weren’t allowed to be alone together. Currently, the two teenagers were playing a virtual reality game against each other while their older brothers watched, picking at pizza so bad Taichi didn’t know if he could eat it. After a few bites, the thought occurred to him that his paper plate might actually taste better.

Of course the fact the Yamato wasn’t really talking made the situation more boring and more uncomfortable. Taichi didn’t know how to behave around him after what had happened with Sora on Friday. He had been trying to get a hold of her to talk about whether or not they would tell Yamato, and how, but she wouldn’t take his calls. Taichi wanted to tell Yamato, even though it might damage their friendship permanently, but he didn’t want to do it without Sora; she was Yamato’s girlfriend, the woman he loved, and she should have a say in how he found out.

The hug he had shared with Sora last night, after the game, had been awkward as ass. She was back to reacting to his touch as though it transferred poison, though last night it had made sense. Being around Yamato was even more awkward, but that could easily be attributed to guilt. Sure, Taichi had always wanted Sora for himself, but he wanted her to have chosen him in the first place. His fantasies never involved taking her from Yamato, hurting him, betraying him. In the brief perversions he thought up while he jacked off, Yamato didn’t exist, and Taichi assuaged the shame for doing that by rationalizing that Yamato had Sora and he would never actually be able to touch her.

Yamato lifted the cuff of his jacket and looked at his watch. “Aren’t they out of money yet?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry,” Taichi said, “Hikari talked me into giving her a little extra.”

“Bastard,” said Yamato. Taichi didn’t know if it was his imagination, but there seemed to be more behind that word than the regular banter—almost as though Yamato was actually angry and meant it.

“She’s my little sister,” Taichi defended himself. “I have a hard time telling her no.”

For a moment, Yamato gave Taichi a stare that called him an idiot, then looked away.

“Man,” said Taichi, “what is your problem, today?” He grabbed his drink.

“Did you seduce my girlfriend?”

Taichi gagged on his soda, some grotesquely spilling out of his mouth.

Disgusted both by the display and the confirmation of his suspicions, Yamato threw a handful of napkins at Taichi.

There was silence for a few moments as Taichi cleaned up his mess. When he looked up again, meeting Yamato’s eyes, which were practically searing with anger, he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

Yamato didn’t say anything, just continued to tear Taichi limb from limb with his eyes. In the discomfort, Taichi tried to explain. “It wasn’t planned or anything. The ball, see, Sora kicked it a little hard and it ended up in this tree. Sora was going to climb to get it, but the branches were too weak. So I said, ‘Hey, the branch isn’t that high, I’ll lift you.’ And she said, ‘No.’ And I said, ‘I won’t drop you. I’m not a leper.’ And she said, ‘That’s not what I’m afraid of.’ And then, she finally let me lift her, and she hit the ball, you know, out of the tree. And then she kind of wobbled, you know, lost her balance, and, ah, we-we fell.”

Yamato was still silent and stiff.

“And she landed . . . on top of me. It just happened. I-I wasn’t even thinking, it’s just that . . .” he trailed off, not able to explain. “I’m so sorry.” He hung his head.

After a tense silence, Yamato finally spoke. “So you fucked her.”

Taichi’s eyes snapped up. “No,” he said, shocked.

This seemed to surprise Yamato. “You didn’t?”

Taichi shook his head. “It was some kissing and dry-humping. We didn’t even take off any clothes . . . .” He trailed off, realizing there was something to add. “Although,” he said quietly, “we did both, you know, come.”

Yamato’s eyes, which had softened a bit a few moments ago, flared again.

“I’m sor—”

Yamato cut him off. “Don’t you fucking say that again. I get it. You’re sorry—that makes it all fucking better, doesn’t it?” Then, all at once, Yamato seemed to deflate; he rubbed his eyes again and he didn’t look angry, he looked tired, and depressed.

There was silence again.

“You’re not going to kill me?” Taichi asked, serious.

“No,” Yamato said, staring at the edge of the table and not really seeing it.

Taichi stood up. “I’ll go,” he said.

Yamato rose, too. “No I’ll go. I’ve got to talk to Sora. Will you give Takeru a ride home for me?”

Taichi nodded, then turned to sit back in the booth.

“And Taichi . . .”

He looked back at Yamato. A force connected with the side of his face, knocking him down to the tiled floor. After a moment, the darkness cleared from his vision and the pain exploded. A stranger was helping him sit up, and blood dripped into his lap. Yamato had punched him—hard. Taichi saw his friend’s figure disappearing through the exit, and Takeru and Hikari running toward him, loud noises everywhere.

Hikari pushed the stranger out of the way and held him. “Taichi! Are you alright?” she asked, worried.

Taichi grew dizzy, and blacked out.

--------------

Sora was still in her pajamas at two in the afternoon; she had no intention of getting dressed. Or doing her hair. Mimi understood that Sora was upset over something big—though she didn’t know what exactly—but in Mimi’s world, the apocalypse wasn’t a good enough reason to neglect hair.

“Would you let me do it? You could sit there and watch your soaps, and I’d do all the work.” She was holding a comb and some styling gel.

Sora was eating chocolate icing out of the container with a spoon. “They aren’t my soaps. I’ve never watched these before. I can’t even figure out what the fuck is going on. Isn’t that the guy who was trapped on the deserted island fifteen minutes ago?”

Mimi studied him for a moment. “Yes, but I think they’re supposed to be twins.”

There was a knock at the door. Sora simply sat, pretending she didn’t hear it. When Mimi got up, Sora said, “Check who it is first.”

Looking through the peephole, Mimi said, “Don’t worry it’s not Taichi, it’s Yamato.”

Sora tensed. Oh God, he was here to dump her. When he walked in to stand in front of her, however, he looked so haggard, so wiped out, she wanted to hold him.

“Will you come for a drive?” he asked, forcing a weak smile.

She nodded.

Throwing on a sweater and some slippers, she followed him out to the car. She got a few stares, but she didn’t notice. He drove to a quiet park; neither of them spoke during the drive. When he turned to car off and looked at her, she wanted to cry. This was the end, she could see it in his face.

“I talked to Taichi today,” he opened the conversation.

“And he told you about Friday?”

Yamato nodded, “He wasn’t really built for lying.”

“I was going to tell you last night, but I ended up trying to prove to myself I still wanted you. I’m sorry; that wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Find out what, exactly?”

She swallowed. “That my feelings for Taichi had changed. Drastically.”

“How long?” he asked.

She knew what he really wanted to know was how long she had been thinking of Taichi while she was with him. “Probably a while,” she conceded honestly. “But that I was aware of, just since Monday.”

“What happened Monday?”

“I . . . saw him naked. He didn’t know,” she answered. Yamato didn’t need to know the whole truth on this score and it would just hurt him more.

There was silence for a few minutes. Then Yamato spoke. “I’m such an asshole.”

Sora looked at him. Was he losing it? “What do you mean?”

“I’m angry. I’m so angry and that makes me such a hypocrite.”

“Yamato . . .”

“I slept with Jun,” he blurted.

Sora’s brain didn’t register his words for a good five seconds, and then it didn’t believe them. “W-what?”

“I slept with Jun,” he looked at the steering wheel, picking at the covering that was peeling. “It was after that gig in Kyoto at the Peg-Legged Crab. You couldn’t come. I don’t know why she was there, but I had a lot to drink and . . . I took her up to my hotel room.”

What he had done, and who he had done it with, was sinking in. Then she was hitting him, pelting him in the arm and chest with her fists. He didn’t even try to block them. Abruptly, she stopped, and moved as far away from him as possible, sitting with her side against the door.

It was a long moment before she was composed enough to speak. “You bastard, that was two months ago. Were you ever planning on telling me?”

After a pause, “No.”

“And now you're going to dump me for something you did, too?”

“I’m not dumping you, Sora. We’re breaking up. I love you, and I know you love me, but we’ve gone wrong somewhere—there’s something we need that we’re not giving each other. We could try to work it out, but admit it, you don’t want to.”

Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“I cheated with someone I don’t care about, someone I don’t even like. You cheated with someone you love. You wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t want to be with him, Sora.”

“I can’t be with him. I don’t want to hurt you, Yamato.”

Yamato laughed sardonically. “And what did we do to him, Sora? He’s not the most subtle person; we both knew he loved you when we got together, and it didn’t stop us.” He looked at her. “Don’t worry about me, Sora. I’ll keep myself occupied; I obviously have a lot I need to work out.”

She thought for a moment. “So, basically, what you’re saying is, that you love me, but you’re not willing to fight for me.”

“Not Taichi,” he said. “To have you, I’d fight anyone but Taichi.”