Promise
By Vanilla Tiger

AN: Darkfic.  Set some point in a future where episode 50 never happened.
Feedback to fitchers_bird@yahoo.co.uk


I'll never hurt him and he'll never leave me.

That's the promise we made to each other and remake every day. Not just through words because words can lie. We make it through touch, through lips and skin. Through the way he rushes to meet me after I come home from work, through the way I never read his songwriting book. I don't need to do that anyway. Anything I want to know about my Yamato I can find out just by looking in his clear cerulean eyes. They tell me all I need to know.

Strange thing is I found out more about myself just by being with him. Not just the normal sappy stuff like how much I love him and the extent to which I would be torn apart if I ever found myself alone again, but weird stuff. I never knew before that I had an arm fetish. Is there a more bizarre part of the body to obsess over? Well, probably… there's some sick people out here. It's just that they're so smooth and slim. It took me about a month to get over the fact that I can span his wrist between my forefinger and thumb with my hand. That's a pretty small distance. Sometimes, when I was waiting for him to come back from rehearsal, I used to stare at the circle created by my forefinger and thumb and marvel that my boyfriend's wrist was smaller than that. It made him seem so fragile, like I could snap him in two with a flick of my wrist. It's almost a private joke between us. When he found out, he brought more sleeveless tops of the type he wore in the digiworld. I only let him wear them when we're alone.

That fragility, it makes me feel so special. I know he doesn't really need me to wrap him in my arms each night and tell him that I'll never let anyone hurt him, but it's a game we both play. Leadership never really lets you go. I need to be in command, and he needs to be taken care of, in a way his family never could. In the digital world I watched him once, struggling towards me over rocky ground. He was so slender I expected the wind to knock him over, waited for it in fact, but it never happened. You see, he's stronger than people think. Looks like a lily, but is wrought of steel. Throughout our time together I've seen that strength tested to its limits, but I'm the only one who can bring him to his knees.

We're special; we're meant to be together. He needs me and I love him for it. Even when we were fighting every two seconds I think I loved him then. I remember how we agonised over how to tell our friends. We called a meeting and arrived late at a time when we knew everyone would be there. We walked in together, holding hands and confessed. Silence. Yamato tensed and I squeezed his hand. Then Sora sighed, "Well, finally."  It had been obvious to everyone we were destined for each other. Even Jyou had figured it out, and he hadn't even realised Mimi really liked him before their fifth date!

We've had our problems, but then what couple doesn't? Despite everything we're still together, and I thank God daily. I'll never hurt him and he'll never leave me. That's all we need to know to be completely happy.

Even with his god-like beauty, Yamato's not perfect. But I can put up with that. I don't mind the time he spends on his hair, or being banned from the kitchen. What I don't like is being betrayed. He only tried to leave me once. It was my duty to remind him of our promise. If he was going to break his part, why then I just had to break mine. Still, he learnt his lesson …for a time.

Now, don't get me wrong. He never actually tried to leave me again but even before the incident he betrayed me mentally. I already said how I could know exactly what he was thinking just by looking at him, well there were times when I caught him thinking of other men, of leaving me. He denied it, swearing that I was the only one he wanted, but I know his weaknesses. So I hit him. I could never damage his glorious features, but those amazing arms were mottled with bruises. And still he denied doing anything wrong.

He denied it so consistently that I almost began to believe him. Then he tried to leave me and so I knew I had been right all along. When I calmed down, I saw him battered and bleeding on the floor. I held him in my arms and explained gently why I had to do it. He finally apologised, and I made love to him sweetly and slowly, as if he would break.

That weekend I dashed him to this little country cottage I knew, leaving a message with Hikari that we had gone off on a spontaneous weekend break. The others laughed about how romantic I was. Most of his bruises healed pretty quickly, and Yamato made up a silly story about falling down the stairs to explain the rest to Takeru.

The next time I was more careful. I never flew into a rage again. When I had to punish Yamato I did it sorrowfully, and always remembered to explain to him what he had done wrong. How else was he supposed to learn?

He's much better than he used to be. He quit his band. I couldn't stand all those obsessed fangirls screaming for him, and I'm sure he was tempted on occasion. To please me, he just stays at home and writes. But that's not a serious job, unlike mine, so he does all the housework too. Yet still once or twice I know he thinks about leaving me so I have to remind him what would happen if he ever did.

In bed, I cradle his bruised body in my strong arms, just like he needs me to. I hear him whimper so I whisper in his ear, 2I'll never hurt you and you'll never leave me. That's our promise; that's the way it's meant to be."

***

In the morning, after his lover has left, the blond lies in their shared bed and tries not to cry. Two tears slip out, one on each cheek. One is for the truth and the other is for the lies, both of which are contained in the promise they made.


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