Well... i'm sorry. it took too long. too much has happened. let's just say i have more time to write now. anyways, the much-awaited final chapter. it has been a great journey, and i thank everyone for reading the story. now i can move on. let me know if you liked the ending. i don't own digimon. the closest thing to digimon i own is a charmander pillow. on with the story.

To Wait, Perchance to Know.

Takeru.

I finally know. I've waited long enough. In this long, arduous journey, I've learned that dreams are, in all actuality, fleeting shards of reality, inundated with modest truths and vicious trials, all for the glory of a laugh. Yes. A fuckin' laugh. And no, I'm not laughing. I'm content with a slight chuckle, but I'm not going to burst into a perpetual cackle. I shall not "cack" to any extent of the imagination. God's sick, twisted little joke isn't that funny. But you have to admit; making a complete ass of myself this whole time was no rain on my parade. Not at all. But the most important part is that even though it took me quite a while, I finally know.

Yamato's room was my haven. My sanctuary, even. It always had been, even though he never even set foot in it. My mom's twisted sense of motherly intuition told her that the only fragile link she had with her fallen angel was his meager possessions. His guitar was sitting on a chair that readily faced his bed, along with a picture of him and Taichi, their face plastered with vanilla and rocky road, respectively, on the nightstand. His room was almost like a shrine, a frame frozen in time. His green-plaid bedspread and baseball-patterned wallpaper strongly opted the sense of innocent adolescence, which was only a fantasy in my mom's imagination. Yamato was born an adult. He was born, knowing how to channel angst before knowing how to walk. Call it a curse, but I think of it as a gift. Sadly, Yamato was a kid at heart. By the by, his favorite sport was baseball, but he never had the chance to play. He always wanted to.

Yamato's room symbolized the hopes and dreams my mom had for him, and him alone. Since they didn't materialize, seeing that Yamato was nowhere to be found living up to such high expectations, my mother stopped dreaming when it came to me. Her only wish was for me to not end up like Yamato. I was bounded in mediocrity, so that I wouldn't fall to the pressures of the extreme. I just like to think of it as a place where dreams can only be chased. Here, dreams are at the midst of the fingertips. And, it is the chase that fueled our hopes and dreams. At least, someone very wise said that once.

I'm tired of the mediocre. I'm tired of the dreaming. I'm tired to the chasing. I'm tired of the waiting. Maybe I'll become a doctor, or an engineer. You know, something my mom would be really proud of. I want to make her happy again, and if I have to do it with a fake smile taped onto my face, so be it. I was going to do it. I was going to make everyone happy. I was going to love Hikari. I was going to love Daisuke. I was going to love my dad. I was going to love my mom. I was.

I stopped running forward. I stopped running away. With a newfound heart, I got up from the darkness that shrouded Yamato's room. I rose from the depths of an inescapable fate. I conquered my self-damnation. I wasn't going to let some minor revelation ruin my life. Never.

I left Yamato's room with a rejuvenated appreciation for life, and the precious gifts that came with it. I wanted to shout it out to the whole world, but much of Tokyo would suffice. But before I began my joyful spree, I thought about the first person that I should tell. Finally, I was going to confront him.

On my way to Daisuke's, I walked through the alleys and the byways, smiling like I never did before. I felt like I was capable of loving. I was capable of emoting. In a matter of no time, I was standing at the foot of his apartment building, which eclipsed the glory of the encrusted moon and the shining points of light. And I noticed him there, standing out in the balcony, with a cell phone in one hand, and a takeout menu in the other. It was from our restaurant. The chow fun was divine, but not as scrumptious as the orange chicken or even the moo goo gai pan, Daisuke's personal favorite. I didn't care if it made him break out into a frenzy of pimples. If it made him happy, then I would feed him that everyday. Just because it was his favorite... Don't ask how I knew that. Won't say that I've fallen in love. Don't say I've fallen in love. Don't.

Before I could lay a single step onto the stairway that led to heaven, he was there, holding out his hand and grinning gently, signaling me to follow him, and so I did. I trailed him quite a ways, so that I didn't seem stalker-like, but that only provoked him to stop and grab my arm, pulling me along the rest of the way to his place. I was tugged through the front door, garmented with the Motomiya nameplate hanging above, along with a wittier plate asking visitors to neatly set their shoes aside. It was quite witty, but I can't recall it amongst the recesses of my fading memories. Yup, my fading memories.

We got to his room, which had its own exclusive private balcony, bathed in the light of the midnight sun, with all its austereness, filtered with the harmony of resilient stars. We went there, and I stood there for a moment, and he stood there for a moment even longer than mine. I disrespected his courtesy and etiquette by sitting on the lone stool provided, but he didn't think anything of it. He just became transfixed, returning to the gaze that he held earlier, longing once again. He broke the silence, yet kept his soft smile.

"What took you so long?" He asked in such a way in that the question was too broad, and that any answer that happened to squirm out of my unforgiving mouth would not serve any justice. None, whatsoever. He awaited an answer, never easing his eyes towards mine, which were fixed to the ground, in shame.

"I don't know… I really don't know…" I didn't. I really didn't. He began to let out a chuckle of amusement.

"Hmm… You haven't learned, have you? Well, I'll show you…" He ushered me to face against the moon, embattled with a stunningly beautiful darkness.

An ever-growing anxiety grew within. I didn't know if he was going to kill me right then and there. It would have been a terrible place, if he wanted the utmost discreetness, but yet an elegant splatter of minute glass shards and crimson mist against a concrete canvas. A sight to see for passersby, nonetheless. I assumed that he would have pushed me off the balcony's ledge. I thought he had neither the agility, nor the sheer dexterity to point a gun at my darling face. One thing's for sure, though. He did have the nerves. He did.

"Takeru… What's the matter?"

I began to sweat proverbial bullets. Those very bullets that rattled the contours of my back. It was torture. It was a very simple question, and an awkward response that I would have not wanted any other way. Somewhat like child's play.

"What's the matter? No one ever asked me that before…"

I began to cry. The thought of it alone just brought tears to my eyes. Someone actually cared for me. My anguish was lost amongst all the sobbing and whaling. I could have been mistaken for any widow that lost it at the heat of the moment.

"Dai… No one… No one… No one ever… Asked me that… Not Hikari… Not Yamato… Not my mom… My dad… No one… No one, except you… Dai…"

A long pause, or an act of feigning interest followed.

"I had no idea… I thought you had it all… I thought… you had it made."

That followed an even longer pause, and an even larger act of feigning interest. Something inside me went off. It was like rage and resentment, with a little touch of regret.

"What? Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you… I've been through fuckin' hell! I've been through more shit than you'd ever know, so fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off… It's you that has it all!"

Again, my message got lost in translation. I never even thought about that. I guess I was jealous this whole time. I was envious of all the glory. It was the glory that attracted me to him. But, I'm not sure. I didn't care. He knew, and there was no way to go back on my words. My shell broke at that moment. Now I was making excuses. I didn't want to seem like the attention whore. I wanted the humility. It was this humility, and the idea of servitude that I had about myself, which kept my whole character intact. It was the idea of having so many problems, which kept my identity in check. It's discerning to know that waiting for 1000 years, or having the weight of the world on your shoulders, could mean that people have waited longer, or something heavier tug at their heart. I wanted to be the hero.

"Maybe… Who knows?"

"What?" I didn't get it at all. What gave him the audacity to joke at a time like that? If anything, he should be the one who had no clue of the entire situation. Not me.

"I'm sorry if it sounded frank, or irrational at best." How profound, and big 'ups' to his word… usage.

"You better damn well believe it did…"

"What I'm trying to say is that we regard people in different ways… we shine them in different lights… maybe, to disguise their true nature."

"Oh…"

"Takeru… I always thought you had it all… You had a brother that would look out for you… A mother that cares for you… A dad that you could talk to, or at least talk about… And you have a girl that can heed your every call… You had it all… I guess that's why I did what I did… Yah, I saved you… Back then, you had it all, and you couldn't even defend yourself..."

"That was you?" I played stupid. Or, in this case, stupider than I was, since this was all a giant revelation to me.

"Yah… And then I saw you again, I was so jealous of you, because life was good for you, and I had too much shit to deal with. So, I double-teamed with Takeshi and attacked you…" I would have said, 'that was you' again, but I thought it would have been of bad taste.

"Hmm."

"And then I finally got to see you again… and I wanted to make it up to you… rival."

"Rival?" Rival, indeed. How about that… I had a rival all this time. A rival, and a friend. Always competing for each other's affection. Hmm. A rival.

"Yah. I'm sorry about everything Takeru. I'm sorry." This was going all too well. Right then and there, I wanted to tell him how much I felt about him. How much I loved him so. I did. I really did. It was really nice to know that during all these years, while I was thinking about him, he was thinking about me too. I wanted to tell him, and kiss him.

"No… I'm sorry I yelled at you… I'm sorry I misunderstood you all this time… I'm sorry…" He began to chuckle again, but this time, there was nothing funny or sinister about it.

"I guess we we're both sorry…" It was more playful than anything.

We were chuckling together, facing each other close. So close, I felt his essence. We began to get closer, letting no light pass between our shadow body counterparts. And at that moment, we just stood there. But I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to know.

"Kiss me, pizza-face," I said, smiling. He didn't show a frown. He just smiled warmly, like he always did, and made me warm inside. Then, he kissed me. And my tears were gone. We kissed like it was forever. And that's how I ended that long night, my long journey. It led me to his arms, and in the comfort of his room, we saw the sun rise from the promising east. And we had a long life together after that. Hikari moved on, my mother loved me; my dad accepted me and my brother and I became the best of friends. That's how my life turned out…

At least, I always wished that that was the way things turned out, but alas, they didn't. I died that night. No, Daisuke didn't push me out of a 5-story balcony. I never made it to Daisuke's. I never made it out of Yamato's room. They say it was pure suicide, but there was no pleasure in it. My autopsy was a drag. I didn't know how they did it, but they diagnosed me with some bipolar disorder, postmortem. That amazed me. They said that I had a crippling addiction to sex. I was in a state of constant hypersexual fervor. They said I was in a constant fit of anger, and that I had some oral fixation, noted by my unrelenting, strained eyebrow muscles, and my audaciously thick lips patterned with the clench-marks of my own teeth, respectively. That was in no way, true, to any extent of a feeble imagination. Just because you give a gun fellatio, then in the heat of excitement, it goes off in your mouth, doesn't mean you have an oral fixation. It's quite the opposite. They said that if I popped in a few meds, I would have still been alive today. But I haven't felt more alive at this very moment. Finally.

I was suspended in a state of limbo, stuck amongst the echelons of heaven's justice. My body couldn't move, but I felt all that was going on. I felt the spider that repelled itself from the ceiling of the coroner's office, the awkward look on the coroner's face when we exchanged lifeless glances, and the spider leaving me after relieving itself on my right thigh. Don't ask. Even after death, I still have my jib.

I even felt the sincerity and the pain that was in my mother's heart when they pulled the sheet off my face. Yah, my eyes were technically closed, but my heart was more open than ever. If my eyes had life, I would have cried at that moment. She visited me after work. She looked at me, fronting a face of perplexed angst. But, there were no words of anger towards the loving wrath of some higher creator, or any staged, outlandish display of emotion. Simple and sweet, she was. The way I wished to have remembered her for.

"Takeru… I'm sorry…" A gentle sigh escaped from deep within a heart that harbored genuine feelings of regret. Only regret. "My darling… If only I can see you smile again…" She was the only one that visited me before the big day.

My funeral was on a Tuesday, which, if you come to think about it, isn't the greatest day to have a funeral. It's not really convenient in that you can't take the rest of the week off, or go to work the day before. It can easily be assumed that there will always be an awkward instance before or after, or even during a funeral on a Tuesday. My father and my mother agreed that I would be buried, instead of burnt. I guess I would have burdened the sky with my polluting remains. Any who, I was dressed in my Sunday best, or in this case, my Tuesday's finest. Black suit, black tie, black shoes. All of them, really nice. All of them, kind of itchy. Michiko, the funeral home's makeup artist, did wonders on my face, giving me really light rouge while retaining my naturally pale skin. I didn't look that dead. The formaldehyde didn't bother me that much.

No eulogy was said, and no word was spoken on my behalf. I think I liked it that way. The last thing I need before I was to be ushered into a 6-foot-deep trench was a lecture, or to be marked as some cautionary tale. I rather would sacrifice a celebration of my life to not have a scorning of my death. But everyone had their special moment with me. I felt so special, in a way. My world was shaken that day. Shaken more so than the day I died.

Taichi came up to me first, in a mess. He leaned into my coffin and began to sob, freeflowingly onto my lapel. After placing an eggshell colored carnation by my side, he began to speak, almost like pleading.

"Takeru… I tried to call Yamato this morning, before your funeral… But, they told me… they… told… me… he killed himself… He died, Takeru… He died…" He was beginning to hyperventilate and become emotionally rowdy, and the room began to grow louder with the moans and cries of my audience. After controlling himself somehow, he continued, "The last time… The last time I talked to him, I told him that you were gone… He began to cry… He began to scream in disbelief… He said that he lost the greatest thing that ever happened to him… That was you, Takeru… That was you… He really loved you, even if you didn't think so… I wish you knew that before pulling that trigger… Takeru… Yama…" He let out a long sigh, followed by a stream of silent tears. "I just wanted to say thank you, Takeru. Thank you for the guitar, and the picture… I'm going to treasure it… forever. I may never hear that song again… But the memory of it will last forever…" And then he left. I guess it got to him somehow. The guitar was found next to my pool of blood. The two never actually met. And the picture had to be pried out of my dead fingers. They said I was clinching on to it.

Takeshi was next. I wasn't that surprised to see him there. I'm surprised he didn't jump for joy, either. He just stood there, and looked at me. We stared off for what seemed like hours, with no sense of remorse in his heart. All I sensed was emptiness.

"It was me. I was always there, but you never noticed. You never cared to look around you… Yamato was like a brother to me, since my dad liked him. He even treated me like a brother. He talked to me. But you. You." After a moment of tense silence, he ranted on, and poured his heart into my lifeless body, my cringing and regretful soul. "My dad was there to pick up the pieces after your dad left… And I guess he forgot me in the process. I don't know why I hated you. I should've hated him. I couldn't have hated your mom. She loved my dad too much. But you. You didn't notice at all… My father couldn't handle you. He couldn't handle the pain that you radiated. He gave up on me early in the game, but he happened to fight for you 'til the end. He really loved you, and you blew it." And then he left.

Then there was Hikari. She came up with Daisuke, holding a friend who was deeply mourning, or putting on an elaborate show. I couldn't tell. Well, I could. I really thought she loved me. I really did, but she didn't. "I wasn't really pregnant. I just wanted to test your love for me. I just wanted you to be there. I just wanted you to be the same guy I fell in love with. I just wanted you to be the same guy that cared for me. All I wanted was your support. All I wanted was your love…" She paused, just to look at me, but her cocoa pupils were clouded with irrational thoughts of self-loathing and narcissism. "I guess it was too much for you… But you left me… You didn't even think about anyone else… It was always about you, huh?" She gently tucked my hair away from my face, and kissed my forehead. A soft impression, that left a major impact.

She went back to him, and he hugged her. He only glanced at me with a stern countenance, and went back to his seat, with Hikari under his shoulder. He said nothing to me. He didn't even shed a tear.

My mother came up, and she was guiding a little girl up to me, by the shoulders. Her pale skin balanced her midnight attire. She was the perfect balance of an eerie mystery and an embraceable memory. It was the first time I ever met Sakura face to face, and yet I was slacking in my introductions. How ungentlemanly-like. With my mother giving some distance, Sakura, with her eyes a deep blue, began to stare at me, as if I were some familiar face. Her articulate nature began to manifest itself with her soft words.

"I know we haven't met… But my name is Sakura. I just wanted to say thank you. You gave me real courage. It's a shame that we couldn't have been close, but I always felt like you were always watching over me. Father would only describe you, like a legend. I looked up to you. Like a guardian angel, almost…"

She began to cry.

"Please…watch over me? Now… that you are an… angel."

Me… an angel… hmm…

"If only you listened to your own advice… brother," she whispered under her breath. I wish I did. 'Please be strong,' I scribbled in her diary that day. If I didn't listen to it, I would have still been of flesh and blood, but dead. I would have been dead without the strength from within.

My mother, stricken by a torrent of grief, took her seat, never letting go of Sakura.

The crying was subdued, and everyone proceeded outside to the hole in the ground that they were going to toss me into. The pallbearers did their job, dragging me to final spot, many of them just faceless uncles and cousins that could have cared more for me. There was potential, and that was my only regret. The descent was rocky, with the corner that housed my left foot was being lowered about a meter slower than the rest of my lifeless matter. There were shouts, followed by screams, followed by sighs of relief, knowing that I made it in. First, the flowers began to shower my casket, blanketing myself with the prayers and thoughts of friends, family, and complete strangers. It was a nice feeling, come to think about it. Daisuke was at my feet, just staring at me directly in the eyes. Yes, my casket was closed, but he was staring, and I saw through it. Or so I thought.

Many of these aunties with unnaturally hued tresses were throwing many of the flowers from wreaths other than the one they donated to my behalf, hoping to take them home in mint condition. Daisuke threw a single red rose, still standing at the foot of my coffin, from meters above. He was dressed well, as if he were trying to impress me. It was just a simple black suit and black tie over a white shirt. It was so simple, but it really suited him well. He didn't speak a single word to me then. Not even in his heart. I couldn't tell what, if anything, he was feeling.

And that was it. That's where I am now. Time has not been an entity to me. Days, years, minutes, seconds… they're all the same to me. All I have are the memories to entertain me. Of course, since a spirit such as myself has no real restriction, I can wander around, but I choose not to. All I do is sit on my little spot on the hill, under my oak tree, and reminisce. Of course, I get all the latest gossip from visitors. Much has happened. My father went to prison on charges of possessing pedophilia. He gets a lot of flack from his prisonmates for being the sick bastard that he was. I think it was the fact that he beat his kids was what killed him.

My mother became a lot stronger. After my father left them, Sakura's mother became good buddies. They formed a support group that became a leading advocate in passing harsher laws against child abusers and pedophiles. No, there was no personal vendetta. They just grew tired of such injustices. Sakura's mother died in a car accident, and my mother took Sakura as her own. I hear from my mother that Sakura's in the midst of writing her third novel. I guess I made a big difference to her, since she always dedicates every book to me. Thank you, Sakura. By the way, ladies, she's single. Yah. She came out to me first. Don't I feel special?

Taichi visits every week, cleaning my and my brother's gravesite. Yup. We're right next to each other, but it's only his body. Lucky bastard got into heaven. He must have been a better person than I thought. Although he can never say it back, it's nice to know that I have my brother by my side for eternity, and every chance I get, I tell him that I love him. Hmm… I wonder what he's up to? Anyways, when Taichi visits, he only says hello to me. He only says goodbye to me. There's no reason to greet Yamato. I guess he's always with him. Why bother?

Takeshi and my step dad, his father, visited a few times. They're on good terms now, and because of it, Takeshi always comes to me with a feeling of true repentance. If only he could know that I forgave him a long time before.

Who would have thought? Hikari and Daisuke got married, and had an ass-load of kids. I think they're expecting lucky number-seven in a few months. Of course, I hear that Hikari's good, from Daisuke. He visits me once and a while. I look forward to seeing him the most. He talks to me as if we were in some café, discussing how our lives have gone in different directions. I'm just listening intently, sipping my mocha latte, with a warm feeling in my heart. I hear his smiles, and I see his laughter, and I feel warm again. It's great, knowing that his kids inherited that same charming spirit, always clearing the sky on such cloudy days. His third boy was born on my birthday, and they named him Takeru. A lovely boy. Much better looking than me. Shy, refined, yet well-spoken. I wonder where he got that from. Hmm. And Daisuke always ended our meetings with an 'I love you.' If only I can tell him in person. I just only hope that he knew.

To wait, to know, perchance to dream? A shout, a whimper, a fullblown scream? I don't really know what it means, but I have all the time in the world to figure it out.

Once again, thank you, from the heart of my bottom. i'm going to read for a while before i start another story. happy writing!

ek