Stigma, Chapter 5
[rewrite] [WIP] Yamato stumbles across something he was never meant to see... and now it seems someone may be determined to end his life, at any cost.
Digimon - PG-13 - English - Angst/Suspense - Words: 11759 - Updated: 07-08-09 - Published: 05-07-04
chapter four
Disclaimer: Toei's.
Author's Notes: This is the chapter from hell that didn't want to be written. Seriously, what a pain.
Stigma
by: butterflie
chapter five
[Monday]
Yamato was starting to wonder if he'd dreamed the whole thing up.
He hadn't felt watched or followed for a few days now, and there had been no weird phone calls or threats left in his mail. If it wasn't for the articles in the paper to reassure him that yes, it was real, he'd probably be questioning his sanity even more than he already was. Or his lack of it, rather.
Maybe the guy, the killer, was convinced he'd never tell a soul about what he saw in the alleyway, and had decided to leave him alone. He really hoped so. Still, he wouldn't relax his guard just yet. It could be what the guy was waiting for--tricking him into feeling safe and then striking when the moment was right.
No, he'd give it a few more days, see what happened.
"Yamato!"
He started, head snapping up guiltily as he recalled just where he was and what he was doing. "Eh, sorry," he said sheepishly, giving a little half grin.
Ny just glared at him, hands twitching. Clearly Ny was suppressing the urge to strangle him. After a few moments he sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Once more, from the top!"
Yamato nodded and got into position again, resolving to block out all thoughts of everything but the rehearsal. The concert was coming up very soon. He couldn't afford to be distracted at this point.
He began to sing right on cue, not missing the small pleased smile it gave Ny to see something finally go right. Kenji started in with his drums, and Yamato closed his eyes and lost himself in their music.
[Tuesday]
"You seem better now."
"Huh?" He looked up from his bento at Taichi, not quite sure what the other boy meant. He hadn't been sick lately.
"You just seem, I don't know, less distracted. Less on edge," Taichi explained. "I was really starting to worry about you." He leaned over and poked Yamato with a chopstick. "What was wrong?"
He looked back down at his food, not really wanting to face his best friend. He couldn't tell Taichi, couldn't lie to his face. "Nothing. I've just been stressed out over our concert."
"Oh yeah, that's soon, isn't it?" Taichi grinned. "We're all invited for free, right? Being good friends with the star of the band and all!"
He let out a snort, and finally retaliated with a chopstick poke of his own. "As much as Ny complains about the lack of money his precious band is suffering, I ought to make you pay. Of course you're invited. You always have been and always will be, you dork."
Taichi cheerfully poked him again and took another bite of his food. "Good."
"Hey! Quit poking me already." He poked back again, and it wasn't long before a fierce mini-chopstick war broke out. The heated battle didn't take long to start claiming casualties, the first being an unfortunate onigiri that got jostled out of its trench by a wayward elbow bomb. Their nearby classmates, fearing for their lives, began to take shelter in the empty desks at the back of the classroom.
In the end, they officially declared the battle a draw, though privately he declared it a victory, as it had seemed to win its main purpose in distracting Taichi from conversations he didn't want to hold. Even the detention they got for causing a mess and not having it cleaned up by the time lunch ended was worth it.
"Just so you know, I'll be declaring a rematch tomorrow," Taichi said.
Yamato grinned.
After school found him heading straight to Ny's, for one last crash session before tomorrow night's concert. He really didn't want to go, because not only would Ny be off the wall crazy with stress, but he still hadn't forgiven him for missing last Wednesday's rehearsal, when he'd stayed home sick. Yamato was really tired of being glared at all afternoon and evening.
He did his best to focus on nothing but the music, but knowing that in a couple of days it would be two weeks since that poor girl died and police were no closer to catching anyone, and he knew something, even just a tiny something--well, it was really hard to concentrate on the rehearsal. And since Ny was already glaring at him anyways, it wasn't as if it made much of a difference.
"Dammit Yamato!" Ny slammed his hands down on the keyboard for the hundredth time that evening. "What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, you better have it worked out by tomorrow night, because if you zone out during the concert, so help me--"
Yamato sighed. "I'm fine. Quit stressing, Ny. Just chill a little. We're plenty prepared, things'll be fine. It's just another amateur concert exactly like all the previous amateur concerts we've done."
"Amateur concert?" Ny practically gave him a death glare, and even the other two looked a little offended. "Well excuse me for wanting us to do our best! We have to do our best if we ever want to get out from under this indie label and make it major. Or is this all some fun joke to you?"
He glared back, pulling his guitar over his head and gently setting it down. He wanted to throw it across the room at Ny, maybe hit the other boy with it. Instead he settled for stalking over and getting right up in Ny's face. "You know it's not a joke," he hissed. "This band means everything to me. Everything. And sure, stressing over it and wanting to do your best is fine. But you take it to the extreme, Ny, and aggravate me to the point where frankly I just want to bash you over the head, if it'll get you to calm down and shut up."
He stepped back, swept his arm around the room. "Practice all you want," he said. "Feel free to drive them--" gesturing at Kenji and Ratsuii, "--absolutely crazy. But I'm through with it for the night. I'll see you guys at the concert tomorrow." He turned around and went back over to his guitar, packing it up and slinging it over his shoulder in preparation for the long haul back to his apartment.
"Yamato, no! Don't you dare leave!" Nyusumi called after him. "I swear, if you step out that door I'll kill you! Hey, wait! Yamato!"
Yamato ignored him, and kept on walking.
[Wednesday]
Wednesday morning, Yamato woke up earlier than usual. It was, at last, the day of the Wolves' concert, and unlike the others he didn't have the luxury of having the entire day to prepare for it. There would only be so much time for him to get ready after school was over, so he wanted to do everything he possibly could beforehand.
He rushed around in a whirl, not even giving any thought to how much noise he was making. He was, therefore, surprised when his dad stalked out of his bedroom, a fierce scowl on his face as he made a beeline towards the kitchen and--more importantly--the coffee pot. Yamato followed him, slightly amused.
A few cups of coffee later his dad seemed awake enough to converse. "What exactly is so important for you to be causing so much chaos at such an early hour?"
"Ah--" he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, "sorry, there's a concert tonight and I wouldn't have had enough time to do everything after school. I didn't mean to wake you."
His dad merely grunted.
"Are you going to... be home early? Or maybe, if you wanted I mean... well, you could come to the concert. Free of course. We always keep seats up front free for any friends and family, so there's room..." he trailed off, not even sure why he was bothering. So far, his dad had yet to make it to any of his concerts.
And sure enough, his dad sighed. "Yamato, I'm sorry... I forgot your concert was tonight. I've already agreed to stay late and cover for one of the other guys at work. But hey, it'll be recorded, right? Perhaps I'll have a chance to watch it later."
"Sure..." he mumbled, tilting his head down to stare at the table. He didn't want his dad to see how disappointed he really was. "That'd be fine..." He knew his dad would never watch it. The thought brought a stab of anger with it. Even if his dad hated his band, at least he could pretend to show some support. Quickly he snatched up his half eaten piece of toast and shoved the rest into his mouth before he could say anything he'd later regret.
Still chewing, he shoved his chair back from the table and headed back towards his room to finish getting ready.
The place was absolutely packed. Really, he didn't know why Ny was so worried about them never making it to a major label--if this kept up it'd be a miracle if they didn't make it.
And speaking of Ny worrying...
"Alright, everybody have everything? Know all your parts? Dressed properly? Remember all your cues?" Currently their keyboardist was pacing around backstage like a madman, constantly asking them the same questions over and over and clearly mightily resisting the urge to part the curtains and go check on their equipment. Again.
Yamato groaned. "Ny, really, we're fine. We're as ready as we can be. Nothing's going to go wrong, and if it does, you can shoot me for it later, okay?"
"Really man, just calm down!" Ratsuii chimed in.
"Deep breaths," Kenji added.
Ny stopped and glared at them all for a moment before visibly slumping. "Right, you're right, sorry. I don't know why I let myself get so stressed by these things."
"Hey, we all get extra-stressed about some things," Yamato said. Like crazed rapist-murderers who've made it their personal mission to stalk you.
But no. He couldn't afford to think about that right now. He had a concert to perform, and he couldn't let himself get distracted. He owed it to Ny and the others, had promised as much. He had to do well.
He began running over the verses of their songs in his head, and it seemed like in no time at all they were all bounding on stage to the screams of their cheering fans. He automatically looked over to the reserved section where his friends were standing, his nerves calmed by seeing Taichi, Koushiro, Jou, and Sora.
With a huge smile on his face, he launched into their first song for the night. He let the words and the music carry him away--all the worries over the girl, her death, what he'd seen, what was happening to him now--all of it faded as he sang.
It had been laughingly easy to sneak into the boy's concert. Of course, it's hardly surprising, the boy is just barely famous, and only locally at that. No one would expect there to be any threat. Certainly he doesn't think anyone expects for someone to try to kill the boy.
Not that he intends to kill the boy, either. No, he is not yet quite decided on that point. So far he has kept to the plan of toying with the boy, and he's done a remarkable job of scaring him into silence. There will likely be no need to ever kill him.
Still, what he's going to do tonight will decide it for sure.
He sits patiently as the concert goes on. The boy's not a bad singer. It's easy to see how he reached his local fame so quickly. Still, the lyrics are obviously written by teenage boys, and he doubts the group will have anything more than smitten teenage girls as fans for several years, if they manage to last that long.
Finally, there's a lull in the concert, and he knows his turn will be up shortly. He begins to make his preparations, and ten minutes later when the break ends, he's ready.
He takes aim.
He'd just began the first song after the short break when he heard the strange, nearly silent whistling sound. He looked up just as his world exploded into pain.
Chapter 5 fin
chapter six
Digimon - PG-13 - English - Angst/Suspense - Words: 11759 - Updated: 07-08-09 - Published: 05-07-04
chapter four
Disclaimer: Toei's.
Author's Notes: This is the chapter from hell that didn't want to be written. Seriously, what a pain.
Stigma
by: butterflie
chapter five
[Monday]
Yamato was starting to wonder if he'd dreamed the whole thing up.
He hadn't felt watched or followed for a few days now, and there had been no weird phone calls or threats left in his mail. If it wasn't for the articles in the paper to reassure him that yes, it was real, he'd probably be questioning his sanity even more than he already was. Or his lack of it, rather.
Maybe the guy, the killer, was convinced he'd never tell a soul about what he saw in the alleyway, and had decided to leave him alone. He really hoped so. Still, he wouldn't relax his guard just yet. It could be what the guy was waiting for--tricking him into feeling safe and then striking when the moment was right.
No, he'd give it a few more days, see what happened.
"Yamato!"
He started, head snapping up guiltily as he recalled just where he was and what he was doing. "Eh, sorry," he said sheepishly, giving a little half grin.
Ny just glared at him, hands twitching. Clearly Ny was suppressing the urge to strangle him. After a few moments he sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Once more, from the top!"
Yamato nodded and got into position again, resolving to block out all thoughts of everything but the rehearsal. The concert was coming up very soon. He couldn't afford to be distracted at this point.
He began to sing right on cue, not missing the small pleased smile it gave Ny to see something finally go right. Kenji started in with his drums, and Yamato closed his eyes and lost himself in their music.
[Tuesday]
"You seem better now."
"Huh?" He looked up from his bento at Taichi, not quite sure what the other boy meant. He hadn't been sick lately.
"You just seem, I don't know, less distracted. Less on edge," Taichi explained. "I was really starting to worry about you." He leaned over and poked Yamato with a chopstick. "What was wrong?"
He looked back down at his food, not really wanting to face his best friend. He couldn't tell Taichi, couldn't lie to his face. "Nothing. I've just been stressed out over our concert."
"Oh yeah, that's soon, isn't it?" Taichi grinned. "We're all invited for free, right? Being good friends with the star of the band and all!"
He let out a snort, and finally retaliated with a chopstick poke of his own. "As much as Ny complains about the lack of money his precious band is suffering, I ought to make you pay. Of course you're invited. You always have been and always will be, you dork."
Taichi cheerfully poked him again and took another bite of his food. "Good."
"Hey! Quit poking me already." He poked back again, and it wasn't long before a fierce mini-chopstick war broke out. The heated battle didn't take long to start claiming casualties, the first being an unfortunate onigiri that got jostled out of its trench by a wayward elbow bomb. Their nearby classmates, fearing for their lives, began to take shelter in the empty desks at the back of the classroom.
In the end, they officially declared the battle a draw, though privately he declared it a victory, as it had seemed to win its main purpose in distracting Taichi from conversations he didn't want to hold. Even the detention they got for causing a mess and not having it cleaned up by the time lunch ended was worth it.
"Just so you know, I'll be declaring a rematch tomorrow," Taichi said.
Yamato grinned.
After school found him heading straight to Ny's, for one last crash session before tomorrow night's concert. He really didn't want to go, because not only would Ny be off the wall crazy with stress, but he still hadn't forgiven him for missing last Wednesday's rehearsal, when he'd stayed home sick. Yamato was really tired of being glared at all afternoon and evening.
He did his best to focus on nothing but the music, but knowing that in a couple of days it would be two weeks since that poor girl died and police were no closer to catching anyone, and he knew something, even just a tiny something--well, it was really hard to concentrate on the rehearsal. And since Ny was already glaring at him anyways, it wasn't as if it made much of a difference.
"Dammit Yamato!" Ny slammed his hands down on the keyboard for the hundredth time that evening. "What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, you better have it worked out by tomorrow night, because if you zone out during the concert, so help me--"
Yamato sighed. "I'm fine. Quit stressing, Ny. Just chill a little. We're plenty prepared, things'll be fine. It's just another amateur concert exactly like all the previous amateur concerts we've done."
"Amateur concert?" Ny practically gave him a death glare, and even the other two looked a little offended. "Well excuse me for wanting us to do our best! We have to do our best if we ever want to get out from under this indie label and make it major. Or is this all some fun joke to you?"
He glared back, pulling his guitar over his head and gently setting it down. He wanted to throw it across the room at Ny, maybe hit the other boy with it. Instead he settled for stalking over and getting right up in Ny's face. "You know it's not a joke," he hissed. "This band means everything to me. Everything. And sure, stressing over it and wanting to do your best is fine. But you take it to the extreme, Ny, and aggravate me to the point where frankly I just want to bash you over the head, if it'll get you to calm down and shut up."
He stepped back, swept his arm around the room. "Practice all you want," he said. "Feel free to drive them--" gesturing at Kenji and Ratsuii, "--absolutely crazy. But I'm through with it for the night. I'll see you guys at the concert tomorrow." He turned around and went back over to his guitar, packing it up and slinging it over his shoulder in preparation for the long haul back to his apartment.
"Yamato, no! Don't you dare leave!" Nyusumi called after him. "I swear, if you step out that door I'll kill you! Hey, wait! Yamato!"
Yamato ignored him, and kept on walking.
[Wednesday]
Wednesday morning, Yamato woke up earlier than usual. It was, at last, the day of the Wolves' concert, and unlike the others he didn't have the luxury of having the entire day to prepare for it. There would only be so much time for him to get ready after school was over, so he wanted to do everything he possibly could beforehand.
He rushed around in a whirl, not even giving any thought to how much noise he was making. He was, therefore, surprised when his dad stalked out of his bedroom, a fierce scowl on his face as he made a beeline towards the kitchen and--more importantly--the coffee pot. Yamato followed him, slightly amused.
A few cups of coffee later his dad seemed awake enough to converse. "What exactly is so important for you to be causing so much chaos at such an early hour?"
"Ah--" he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, "sorry, there's a concert tonight and I wouldn't have had enough time to do everything after school. I didn't mean to wake you."
His dad merely grunted.
"Are you going to... be home early? Or maybe, if you wanted I mean... well, you could come to the concert. Free of course. We always keep seats up front free for any friends and family, so there's room..." he trailed off, not even sure why he was bothering. So far, his dad had yet to make it to any of his concerts.
And sure enough, his dad sighed. "Yamato, I'm sorry... I forgot your concert was tonight. I've already agreed to stay late and cover for one of the other guys at work. But hey, it'll be recorded, right? Perhaps I'll have a chance to watch it later."
"Sure..." he mumbled, tilting his head down to stare at the table. He didn't want his dad to see how disappointed he really was. "That'd be fine..." He knew his dad would never watch it. The thought brought a stab of anger with it. Even if his dad hated his band, at least he could pretend to show some support. Quickly he snatched up his half eaten piece of toast and shoved the rest into his mouth before he could say anything he'd later regret.
Still chewing, he shoved his chair back from the table and headed back towards his room to finish getting ready.
The place was absolutely packed. Really, he didn't know why Ny was so worried about them never making it to a major label--if this kept up it'd be a miracle if they didn't make it.
And speaking of Ny worrying...
"Alright, everybody have everything? Know all your parts? Dressed properly? Remember all your cues?" Currently their keyboardist was pacing around backstage like a madman, constantly asking them the same questions over and over and clearly mightily resisting the urge to part the curtains and go check on their equipment. Again.
Yamato groaned. "Ny, really, we're fine. We're as ready as we can be. Nothing's going to go wrong, and if it does, you can shoot me for it later, okay?"
"Really man, just calm down!" Ratsuii chimed in.
"Deep breaths," Kenji added.
Ny stopped and glared at them all for a moment before visibly slumping. "Right, you're right, sorry. I don't know why I let myself get so stressed by these things."
"Hey, we all get extra-stressed about some things," Yamato said. Like crazed rapist-murderers who've made it their personal mission to stalk you.
But no. He couldn't afford to think about that right now. He had a concert to perform, and he couldn't let himself get distracted. He owed it to Ny and the others, had promised as much. He had to do well.
He began running over the verses of their songs in his head, and it seemed like in no time at all they were all bounding on stage to the screams of their cheering fans. He automatically looked over to the reserved section where his friends were standing, his nerves calmed by seeing Taichi, Koushiro, Jou, and Sora.
With a huge smile on his face, he launched into their first song for the night. He let the words and the music carry him away--all the worries over the girl, her death, what he'd seen, what was happening to him now--all of it faded as he sang.
It had been laughingly easy to sneak into the boy's concert. Of course, it's hardly surprising, the boy is just barely famous, and only locally at that. No one would expect there to be any threat. Certainly he doesn't think anyone expects for someone to try to kill the boy.
Not that he intends to kill the boy, either. No, he is not yet quite decided on that point. So far he has kept to the plan of toying with the boy, and he's done a remarkable job of scaring him into silence. There will likely be no need to ever kill him.
Still, what he's going to do tonight will decide it for sure.
He sits patiently as the concert goes on. The boy's not a bad singer. It's easy to see how he reached his local fame so quickly. Still, the lyrics are obviously written by teenage boys, and he doubts the group will have anything more than smitten teenage girls as fans for several years, if they manage to last that long.
Finally, there's a lull in the concert, and he knows his turn will be up shortly. He begins to make his preparations, and ten minutes later when the break ends, he's ready.
He takes aim.
He'd just began the first song after the short break when he heard the strange, nearly silent whistling sound. He looked up just as his world exploded into pain.
Chapter 5 fin
chapter six