Digimon does not belong to me. This story was written for the "Primer beso" activity of the joumi topic in Proyecto 1-8. The rules allowed for stories in all languages, so here we are.
The dance
There are people in this world who are meant to be together but don't realize it right away. They just run into each other one day and don't cause a good impression to their future significant other.
She found him unreliable. He found her immature.
But the thing with those first impressions is that when someone sees the bad first, all that's left is to find the good.
The unreliable boy had a selfless soul and tried to force himself to be as good as he imagined he should be. The immature girl loved herself and didn't hide her heart from anyone.
He found in the girl inspiration to accept himself and be more confident. She found in the boy support to bring her grand ideals down to the real world.
They uttered encouraging words to each other and many times were the cause of the other's smile. But, as life must be, they were also the cause of the other's tears.
When she went to the other side of the world, he went to the airport and wished her to have the best of times. That night, in his bedroom, he couldn't sleep. He could only think of the smiles he would miss and the people who would surely become so much more important to her.
When he called sometimes, crumbling under the weight of his self-set goals, she reminded him of the fantastic doctor he'd become one day and of the countless lives he would save. His voice filled with renewed determination, coming from across the globe, was whimsical and melodic. She wished to see his expression at those times, but could not.
The years passed first slowly, then too quickly for them to grasp. During her first visit, he couldn't make any time. During her second one, she didn't wait for him.
In the third, she said she had come to know someone. And he replied "Me too."
None of the first crushes lasted. Nor the seconds. Nor the fourths. What they didn't realize was that they were looking in other people what they could only have with each other. But they thought they couldn't have each other at all.
And then, in her tenth visit, none of them was seeing anyone. None of them was too busy with other things. They met and chatted like they hadn't done in years. He mentioned that he was looking for masterships. She let slip that there were great ones in the USA. There was indeed an excellent one close to where she lived!
They looked at each other, almost frightened. But in each of their eyes a spark was visible. The longing in their hearts had never disappeared and had now begun to combust the feeble walls that had attempted to enclosure it.
By the end of that visit, she didn't go alone to the airport and he didn't trap himself in a castle of books. As they sat side by side, she dared to hold his hand and he gladly accepted her touch. They smiled broadly, immersed at the other's sight. Words felt unnecessary. Maybe, they had always been.
Mimi and Jyou kissed each other, a little after the plane set off.
They breathed at the same time, which caused them tickles. They broke the kiss, laughing, and admired the history carved in each other's features. Their mismatches, their misconceptions, their bad timing, their bad first impressions, their words, their smiles, their tears, their laughs… all of their memories of each other were rising at once. And what they saw at the end result was outstandly beautiful.
Love that had been born long ago and couldn't find its way.
Love that had only grown through its missteps.
An unbreakable and unstoppable force that had forged the most resilient sentiment.
Mature, reliable, endless love.
That beauty would only become more intense in the many decades to come. But every time they kissed, it would feel like the first.