A/N: Rated T for minor language and references to alcohol. I do not own Digimon.
Dreams are a portal to another world in which we forgot. Childhood memories that only give the recipient a hint of the confusing déjà vu feeling. So when T.K. dreamed about giant monsters and a strange digital world, he awoke very unsettled.
T.K. groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and admired the view from his apartment windows. He's become a big business man over the years, proving to be more responsible and hardworking than his older brother. The nice apartment view was just one of the many perks that came with financial responsibility and good planning for the future.
He stretched and let out a big yawn. T.K. had bought a couple of those "Decipher Your Dreams" books, but even with their help he couldn't make heads or tails of this particular reoccurring dream. Giant fighting monsters? A digital world? Maybe it was just his acid reflux acting up again.
He gave one final stretch before finally getting off of the bed, his shift in weight causing the springs to moan and groan under him. He padded over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. In it he saw a young blonde with blue eyes and a tired smile. He grinned wider at his reflection and started to brush his teeth, tingling when the refreshingly minty toothpaste touched his tongue. He spat into the sink and rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand before undressing and climbing into the shower. He felt his muscles automatically unclench when the hot spray hit his back and audibly sighed in bliss. Another good thing about financial success: you can buy really nice showers.
After staying in the shower a little longer than usual, T.K. emerged feeling energized and a little raisiny. He grinned down at his wrinkled flanges and chuckled. He thought back to when he and Matt would stay in the bathtub for hours on end, long after all the hot water cooled, and would come out looking like old men, wrinkled to the bone. They would point to each other, laughing over how ridiculous one another looked. T.K.'s smile grew more pronounced as he looked down at his hands. Those were good times.
T.K. pulled on some clothes he found lying around and moved to the kitchen, casually drying his hair with a towel in one hand. He glanced at the very prestigious clock over the fridge and let out a blissful sigh. Saturdays were his favorite day of the week, not because he wasn't pressured into going to work (he was high enough on the payroll that he could choose his own hours), but because he remembered loving them so much when he was a child. That buzzed feeling from no school and Saturday morning cartoons just seemed to stay with him through the years.
The coffee machine sputtered to life as T.K. fooled with it, trying to make it produce something edible. These new fancy-smancy machines nowadays, T.K. thought as he shook his head in exasperation. When he finally heard something that seemed like the sound of coffee being made, he let the disgruntled coffee maker be and walked outside to his porch that overlooked Tokyo's skyline. He leaned against the railing and gazed into the sunrise. All this reminiscing gave T.K. a big urge to call Matt. He flipped his phone open and checked the time. 8:05. Matt would definitely not be awake. T.K. dialed his number anyway.
After the third ring he heard a pissed voice pick up. "What?"
T.K. laughed. "Good morning to you too, Sunshine. Isn't the weather just lovely today?"
"What do you want?" Matt barked over the receiver.
T.K. felt himself chuckle again. "Jeez, don't bite my head off. I was just thinking about you this morning and decided to call."
"Well," Matt spat venomously into T.K.'s ear, "next time you start feeling all warm and fuzzy, wait until after 12 to call me, got it?" T.K. could almost see his brother rubbing his forehead with his free hand, trying to get over the hangover he accumulated last night after partying. "I'm going back to sleep now, thanks."
"Sure," T.K. said easily. "Wait, Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"..." T.K. bit his lip and thought about the reoccurring dream that seemed to haunt him. Was it really something from his childhood? If it was, Matt would certainly know. Maybe it was a TV show they watched together or something. T.K ran through the weird images of monsters in his head again. He let out a breath. "Never mind. Have sweet dreams." He snapped his phone shut and stared off into the distance. Giant monsters and a world made of data? Matt would surely laugh at that.
T.K. took one last look at the expressive sunrise before turning back into his apartment and forgetting about the meaningless dreams that held his childhood memories.
A/N: In celebration of my 13th one-shot (which is my favorite number), I've decided to show you my thought process while I'm rereading this story for the millionth time to try and catch those nasty little grammatical errors. So let's start:
[This is probably the happiest one-shot I've written. I finally got tired of writing "he grinned/smiled" over and over again that I had to start substituting "grinning" for "blissful sighing." Seriously, this has to win the "Happiest One-Shot by Jinx135" award. In my defense, I wrote this at 3 o'clock in the morning. That would explain all the happy.
Dude, my acid reflux totally makes my dreams bizarre. If my childhood was like that, I was on crack.
What is with my obsession with showers? People are always getting into or out of showers in my stories. Maybe I'm unconsciously a germaphobe or something.
Does anyone else laugh when they read the line, "The coffee machine sputtered to life as T.K. fooled with it, trying to make it produce something edible"? I always picture young adult T.K. doing dirty things to that poor coffee maker. Oh, how I'd love to take that poor coffee maker's place...
During the porch scene where T.K.'s talking to Matt, I really wanted to make him smoke. No matter how many times I reread this, in my head I picture him smoking. Screw sticking to character. I should have made him a smoker.
I really like the conversation I wrote between Matt and T.K. I think it's very telling about their relationship. I think it's the best dialogue I've ever written, which is weird since they speak less then ten lines to each other.]
And that's it! Riveting, right? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take a very long celebratory nap. Tootles!
Reviews make me like you. ^^