WINTER ILLUSIONS

Frost began forming on the windowpane as snow lightly fell outside. Mimi Tachikawa was working late again that night, although she knew that her shift had ended fifteen minutes ago. The clock read 9:50 PM. She sighed and rubbed her weary eyes in an attempt to look presentable to any customers. It had been a hectic mid-February day for the brunette twenty-year-old, who was anxious to return home and soak her fatigued muscles in a soothing bath. As her imagination drifted into nirvana, the bell over the door rang.

A short, pudgy man with triangular glasses had entered. He had to be about forty years old, but Mimi knew that nothing was as it seemed in New York City. Since she had left Odaiba, Japan more than seven years ago, she found herself yearning to turn back time and experience what could have been had her father not been transferred in his job. Sometimes she felt as though he was in the military and she was obliged to follow his entire trajectory. Sighing again, Mimi walked to the door and greeted the man.

"Good evening!" Mimi exclaimed. "Welcome to Bermuda's Boutique. We sell very few Bermuda-imported products, but I hope you find something that you'd consider purchasing. If you need any help, just call me. I'll be behind the register." She turned away from the man quickly and wiped her brow. She was fed up with constantly repeating that line to anyone who entered the store. It was almost 10:00 PM and she was ready to pass the buck. Silence occupied the establishment as she moved behind the counter and toward the register. Mimi looked up to see if the man required her assistance, but she was taken back when he had already left.

The residents of New York shared analogous qualities: the majority were overly skinny, had quick tempers, and were awfully picky. Mimi placed her elbows on the counter and folded her hands before using them as support for her growing exhaustion. When she was not assisting a customer, she frequently reminisced about the previous week or the time when she moved from Japan to the United States. Although she kept in touch with her friends, they typically commented on the distance separating them and collectively agreed that moving halfway across the world had to have been difficult for her.

Images of her friends' faces filled her head as she remembered the last telephone call she shared with one of them: it had been her best friend, Sora Takenouchi. Sora was a tomboy who played tennis—although she was very different from Mimi, they enjoyed each other's company and spent their summer vacation together in South Korea seven years ago. They had considered that time their most memorable, and had wanted to travel elsewhere after graduation, plans that had been abandoned after Mimi's abrupt move to New York City.

Yamato's hardhearted expression appeared as Sora's face exited her mind. The majority of her friends referred to him as "Matt" for short, but she preferred to stick with his name because she found it more professional. At one time, however, she had been unable to resist calling him "gelato", though its use eventually ended without either of them noticing. Initially Mimi and Yamato had not been friends and they acted very cold and indifferent toward each other. Both had judged the other as "shallow". Their relationship changed in the summer, eight years ago, when they had been transported to a mystical land with five other preteens, all of whom were roughly about her age.

Mimi never seemed to understand how it all happened. In that land, the seven preteens, which eventually became eight, were welcomed by creatures known as "Digital Monsters", which they shortened to Digimon. They were unwillingly compelled to save the land, named the Digital World, a world that laid parallel to earth. Partnered to an accompanying Digimon, the eight preteens developed strong friendships as they fought off the evil that attempted to conquer the Digital World. They faced multiple hostile situations, after which they had become more sensible people. This "sensibility" developed Mimi and Yamato's friendship.

At the end of the summer, the Digital World portal allegedly closed permanently after the land was fruitfully saved. Mimi and Yamato were at first disappointed with not being able to see their partners and they confided in each other for comfort. Three days later, they decided to have lunch together. For the first time, they had an in-depth discussion and learned a lot about the other person. Yamato explained how he had wanted to learn to play electric guitar for his amusement and become a cook because he was unable to endure his father's meals. Mimi listened attentively and nodded every few minutes as she contemplated her own goals caringly. She felt as though hers were less vital than his, but cited fashion designing as a long-standing aspiration. Yamato supported her anyway and said she had to work hard if she wanted to achieve her goal.

Mimi recalled that lunch as if it had happened yesterday: "I've always wanted to become a better cook. After all, I wouldn't want to choke on my father's meals one of these days. I'm not that bad at it now—hey, I cooked in the Digital World, right?—but I want to be the best chef in the entire world. Do you think I can do it?" Yamato had asked her. The conversation had been an eye-opener of the sorts for Mimi.

Another two weeks had passed. Mimi and Yamato became closer friends and had started spending time with each other at the arcade and mall. Sora wordlessly viewed their camaraderie as "adorable" and she was pleased to see that they had become good acquaintances after a tiring summer in the Digital World. When school began, Mimi found that she was inseparable from the preteens (known as the DigiDestined) she had met during the summer. Before realizing it, a year had passed and she had never been happier.

Mimi's attention returned to Bermuda's Boutique when her shoulder was tapped. Suddenly, she yelled piercingly as a startled young blonde man's features entered her head. He held a calendar in his hands, which led her to acknowledging that he was a customer. She spun away from him to avoid the chagrin her likely-flushed face displayed and sighed quietly before clearing her throat. While developing a story to tell the man, she assumed that the redness had faded, and she turned to him again.

"Yamato," Mimi said meekly. Her eyes lit up.

There was a moment of silence. Mimi cleared her throat again as she studied the baffled expression resting on the man's face. He was not Japanese, but Hispanic and his hair was a lot brighter than Yamato's. Another moment passed before she gazed at the calendar in his hands. It was navy blue and white and resembled the snowstorms that New York had experienced in the past few weeks. Her mind nearly glided into her fantasies again, but the man tapped the counter irately.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I think you've got the wrong person. My name's Sisenando. Now, um, can I please pay for this if you're finished with the questionable lunacy? What's the total?"

Mimi opened the register. She had wanted that same calendar too, but concluded that she was going to spend this year without one, or at least until she believed that ignoring the past was the only way to confirm her career. For the past two years she had wanted to enroll at Pace University, but her job hours interfered greatly. While Mimi worked in a clothing and merchandise store, she no longer desired a future in fashion, and had instead gained an astonishing interest in cooking that shocked even her parents.

Sisenando handed Mimi the calendar. "I'm the one who should be sorry," she asserted emotively. "These aren't my regular hours and my feet are going to melt if I don't sit down anytime soon! Believe me, this is one place you don't want to catch yourself working. Trust me." She took his money and quickly returned the change. "You've got great taste though. This calendar's one of the favourites this season. By the way, I can't help but wonder what intrigued you to buy it in mid-February?"

It took Sisenando a moment to register Mimi's voice, which distinctly reminded him of a children's lullaby. "You could say that my year started late," he finally responded. "Christmas was a sad time because my father died of pneumonia and my girlfriend went to study in Spain. I want to visit her, but money's been tight. A calendar's important though—I couldn't just live day-by-day without one, you know?" He thanked Mimi as she placed the calendar in a bag and handed it to him.

"I think I do," Mimi said timidly. "I don't have a calendar at home either. You had levelheaded and pitiful problems happening in your life, so I guess you weren't able to get one. But I don't own one because… I feel as though I'll be reminded of the last few years, which were very cruel to me."

The bell rang over the door again and Maricia entered Bermuda's Boutique. Maricia worked the store's graveyard shift, but she frequently left Mimi on her own until after 10:00 for her own ease. Mimi somewhat envied Maricia's flowing red hair, which almost sparkled in the wintry moonlight, and colleagues often discussed that she shopped for clothing at a high-end centre. Their relationship was otherwise littered with abhorrence.

Mimi spared Sisenando of her story, making her way into the employee's room to gather her belongings. Upon entry, she moaned malevolently and began anticipating her bathtub's bubbling sensation. That misty feeling always took her to paradise. As Mimi tightened her jacket and put on her wool mittens, Maricia walked into the room, to whom she shot a look of acrimony. She shook her head sympathetically. Maricia deserved to work the nightshift.

A blustery chill greeted Mimi as she stepped outside the store. The snow was falling as lightly as it had been earlier, but it was evident that the temperature had significantly lowered. Mimi's brown hair looked disorderly as she lifted her jacket's hood over her head, which she generally loathed, but the February nippiness bothered her and she was against becoming sick. On the plus side, when she returned home she would be able to redo her hair in any style that she wanted, a smirk on her face.

It was happening again. A few steps from the store and her fantasies conquered her consciousness.

Mimi was disappointed after her father explained that they would be moving to New York City. He was being transferred and was uncertain how long they would be there for, but he guaranteed that it would be less than two years. Although his words were somewhat convincing, Mimi knew that her relationships would be damaged. Her parents were not surprised with her unfavourable reception and all her threats were overviewed with hilarity. Eventually, she detailed the events to the DigiDestined, all of whom were also disappointed by the news, but said that they would be at the airport the day she left Odaiba.

And that was the most tearful day of her life. Had she not become close friends with Yamato, she never would have expected that he would be the most difficult person to say goodbye to. She knew that she was leaving all her friends at a critical time in their lives—she had promised Sora that they would visit a European country sometime soon and she realized that she was beginning to see Yamato in a different light. Were her emotions developing?

The day her family arrived in New York, she admitted to herself that they were indeed developing, and possibly already had.

Two years later, the portal to the Digi World somehow reopened in a middle school. Four new DigiDestined joined the original seven living in Odaiba on a new journey to save the Digi World, but Mimi had not been able to convince her parents into allowing her to return to Odaiba for a week or two. This irritated her and she stopped talking to them for a while. However, a few days later she had received an e-mail from her older cousin who was getting married within the coming month and requested her family's attendance at the wedding. Her parents' jobs prohibited them from attending, but Mimi went back to Japan for five days.

Mimi had not seen Sora, Yamato or the other DigiDestined for two years. During that time, a lot had changed: she was horrified to learn that Sora and Yamato had started dating. While their intimacy had upset her, her jealousy only grew after her peers referred to them as "being in each other's pocket". The wisecrack eventually became a prominent basis in their relationship, which vexed Mimi more. Because she had never found the courage to explicitly detail her feelings to Yamato, she decided against intervening in his newfound love. Nonetheless, she was not keen on returning to New York City, blaming her family's initial relocation as the distortion that kept her from Yamato and her friends.

For the remainder of the second journey, Mimi kept in close contact with the DigiDestined. Whenever she had the opportunity, she was able to enter a Digital Portal in New York that granted her access to the Digital World and ultimately Japan itself within a very short period of time. However, after the journey ended a year later, all the portals that they had uncovered across the world supposedly closed permanently again, but nobody was certain about this since one had inexplicably reopened in a middle school computer room earlier that year. For four years the portals remained shut, leading the DigiDestined to believe that their adventures in the Digital World had ended.

The mid-February snowfall comforted Mimi as her heels smoothly tapped against the frosty cobblestone sidewalk. She sighed heatedly while rubbing her hands together and shaking her head. Sora was the only DigiDestined she kept in contact with regularly, and occasionally she e-mailed Yamato. His responses were exceptionally rapid, which sometimes bothered her, especially as of late, because school was relentlessly becoming more difficult. As Mimi remembered an upcoming exam date, she realized that she had not checked her account since before Christmas and speculated whether he had sent her more than one message to the last response she had e-mailed.

"Oh, Mimi! Hey!"

Mimi stirred at the sound of her name. That voice was familiar, but she was unable to distinguish who it belonged to. The echo of her heels filled her ears as she glanced at her surroundings. She was standing at the corner of 8th Avenue and Montgomery Road, one of New York's largest intersections. There were many people making their way up from the nearby subway platform and into the increasingly chilly evening while others yielded taxies to take them home. Mimi checked her watch—it was almost 10:45 PM. She wondered how long she had walked without taking the bus.

"Mimi! Mimi! Over here!"

The voice grew louder. Mimi had assumed that it was coming from every direction and gasped when her friend Michael put his arms around her neck. The blonde American-born, Japanese twenty-two-year-old had a large grin on his face that somewhat frightened Mimi. Despite his laidback persona, Michael was the son of a movie star, but rarely in a good mood because of his challenging college and work schedule, but for once that evening Mimi found herself reassured at the sight of her friend. They had not spoken since mid-December because Michael had spent the holidays with his relatives in Niagara Falls, Ontario, a major tourist locale in southern Canada.

"It's great to see you!" Mimi exclaimed, turning to face her friend and giving him a hug. "How've you been? How was Niagara Falls? You've got to tell me all about it!"

"Certainly, Mimi," responded Michael enthusiastically. "But the weather's been awfully dreadful lately. Why don't we find someplace warmer? Your favourite café's close to this intersection. Why don't we go there?"

Mimi nodded. Chloe's was a stop-and-go coffee shop open until the wee hours of the morning. Whenever she had the time, she ordered a coffee and sometimes a jelly donut. In her opinion they served the best espressos in New York and she began drooling at the thought of the smooth yet almost arctic-like texture rushing down her throat. She publicly announced that she wanted to get out of the cold, somewhat embarrassing Michael in the process, and they began walking across the street toward the next intersection, where Chloe's operated from.

The tiny café was quiet for 11:00 PM. A young man wearing a velvety apron stood behind the cash register humming to himself. The donut case was almost empty and there were only a couple strawberry-flavoured pastries remaining. The sweet aroma of vanilla filled the coffee shop and Mimi sighed amicably as she entered the store. Michael shook some snow off his hood and removed his mittens from his scarlet hands, which he hoped would quickly defrost.

"Isn't that lovely fragrance simply the best?" Mimi purred. She laughed before glancing at the donut case, though she already knew what she was going to order. "Good evening! Can I get that strawberry donut and a decaf? Thanks!" Mimi turned to Michael, who had sat down at the table closest to the door. "What do you plan on having, Michael? It's late, so there's not much choice…" Her voice trailed off.

"Oh, I wasn't planning on having anything," Michael said humbly. "Um, but since we're here after all though, I think a glass of milk or something like that would be fine. No donuts for me, please." He looked outside to see his busy hometown making their way home and to other destinations he was not interested in assuming. To his satisfaction, his hands had already started warming up.

A minute later, Mimi placed a multi-coloured tray on the table. Michael thanked her, but to his distress the shop only served milk in 150ML cartons, which were navy and a mixture of light and dark greys. He eyed his brunette-headed friend as she sipped from her coffee cup and stared out the window with sensitivity. Her locks were covered by tiny plastic yellow stars. He had never learned how she was able to curl them into her hair, and although he had asked her on several occasions, she chose to keep it a secret. They remained silent for another two minutes.

"So you were going to tell me about Niagara Falls," commented Mimi.

Michael nodded. "It's a nice city. My relatives are not particularly clean people, so I took the time to do the dishes and tidy the garage. I found some toys from my childhood and diaries that my grandfather had kept from the wartime. It was written in Japanese, but I was able to read most of it. I wonder what it would have been like to live there during the 1940s." He noticed a straw laying on the tray and unwrapped it whilst thinking about what to say next. "…I love my aunt's cooking. Did I tell you that she roasts the best chicken?" His eyes sparkled.

For the next fifteen minutes Michael discussed his trip and occasionally role-played what he had considered an "entertaining" moment. Eventually, Mimi unintentionally stopped listening and quietly sighed to herself before reentering her world of fantasies. A blurry image of Yamato materialized in her head and she was incapable of taking her mind off him. She remembered the way he had brushed his hand through her hair when they were sitting near the pond in the park or the way he smiled when she was unhappy. That face had always relieved her of her stress.

"Christmas Eve was the best night of the visit!" Michael continued. "The pot roast was tasty, even though my grandmother accidentally burned most of it. Let's see, I received some underwear from my other aunt and a humongous stereo set from my cousin. She's so cute when she's innocent, but still a major pain. On New Year's Eve, we went over to the falls. A large billboard counting down to the new year had been erected and we cheered loudly when the fireworks exploded! I loved it so much." He sighed lovingly at the memory. "My father was happy to be out of the limelight for a while too."

Mimi rubbed her hand against her forehead as she reluctantly cooed at her friend's story. Although she was enjoying Michael's company, there had been an opening in her heart the entire night that she was unable to sew together. What was missing that she longed for more than anything else in the world? As she turned to look out the window at the falling snow, she sighed aggressively and tapped on the glass with her fist several times.

"What's wrong, Mimi?"

Mimi shook her head before muttering, "Nothing. Don't mind me, 'kay? I'm thinking too much about what happened today. Why am I dwelling on these feelings? ...They're unavoidable though." She waved a hand at Michael impassively and hung her head.

Michael reached for his half-empty milk carton and drank from it slowly. "You know," he said after replacing it on the table, "I heard that college mid-terms will be posted by the end of next week. Aren't you looking forward to your grades? My classmates have been telling me that you're doing remarkably well in chemistry and home economics! Two years ago I never would've predicted that you'd want to take those courses. What changed your mind?"

For a moment Mimi remained silent. "Well," she began, "chemistry is quite cool. It's awesome because all my friends are serious about their studies, which means that I can concentrate. I don't really know what inspired me to take the class and do so well at it though. I'm sorry, Mike, I just don't know. Uh, I definitely like cooking more than fashion these days, but I… don't have a clue as to why." She nonchalantly looked out the window again.

"I've noticed a lot of changes about you," Michael expressed. His voice suggested honesty. "Mimi, for the last two years you've tried changing your entire personality. What I don't understand is why you've chosen to do this—does your heart aspire for something that's out of your reach? You started listening to music you'd never listened to before, eating foods you'd never eaten before, and wearing a lot of no-name brand clothing. It wasn't like you."

A smirk came to Mimi's face, remembering Sisenando from earlier that evening.

"I saw him again today," she said happily.

"You saw… Yamato?"

Mimi slowly nodded as her lighthearted grin faded. "His band, the Teenage Wolves, released their debut disc early last year and I'm still hooked on it. I heard from Sora that it was a sales success in Japan, but they've yet to make it big elsewhere, unfortunately. I'd love to see them in concert. It's too bad I haven't seen him in so long. I remember when the Digi-Portal opened here in New York… I was on cloud nine. It was so easy to go back to Japan. It's too bad it closed four years ago." She sighed at the reminder.

A sneer appeared on Michael's face. "You memorized all that? Mimi… you need to leave all your obsessions behind. Is he also the reason for everything that's happened to you? The chemistry? The fashion style? The cooking and food?"

There was a moment of silence as a sense of realization crossed Mimi's mind, and she recalled the conversation that she had had with Yamato: "I've always wanted to become a better cook. After all, I wouldn't want to choke on my father's meals one of these days. I'm not that bad at it now—hey, I cooked in the Digital World, right?—but I want to be the best chef in the entire world. Do you think I can do it?"

"Y-yeah…" Mimi lifted her coffee to her lips, but she was no longer thirsty. She placed it on the tray and folded her arms before bringing them to her chest. "I don't know how I fell in love, Michael. People used to tell me that there's a reason behind love, and if that's true, why don't I have one?" As she fought back tears, Yamato's hardhearted face appeared in every corner of her head, and she was unable to avoid it. "Michael, for me… love just was."

"I believe you."

Mimi looked at her friend, who was smiling. "You do?" she asked distrustfully. "I want to believe that you believe me, but how can I when my impression is as clear as mud? I thought we were going to have a quiet conversation about your time in Niagara Falls, so what I'm wondering is how we ended up on the topic of Yamato and how he was the person who influenced my entire life." She paused before surprisingly stating, "I want to own a chain of very successful restaurants or have my own cooking show. That would be amazing. Oh, by the way, I think there's a classical song that I adore, but I can't remember its name right now."

"Classical music? That's not like you either. I think I'm going to swallow my head! Am I really hearing this?"

"You're not being very supportive." Mimi began chewing on her donut. Compared to the chocolate-covered Boston cream that she occasionally ordered, it tasted awful, but she ate it anyway in her friend's presence.

After Michael finished drinking his milk, he pushed the carton aside and forcefully hit his fist on the table. "Listen, Mimi, you know why I've never approved of your obsession with Yamato. I don't know why you're letting yourself be consumed by him, but it's got to stop. Don't make your life about him." Michael had grieved over his feelings for Mimi when she had rejected his offer to dinner because she was questioning whether her heart belonged to someone else. That had been more than three years ago, but since then she viewed him as a very close friend.

There were other occasions when Michael had persuaded Mimi to go on a date with him. The majority had occurred on the Greenwich Village strip, and some in Central Park while she had been daydreaming or trying to complete schoolwork. The sixth time that he had asked her to dinner was on Valentine's Day the year before while she was skating with a friend at Rockefeller Center. She had become very confrontational with his persistence, somewhat respecting it, but publicly commenting that he had always been her "shelter", and never her "home".

That had broken his heart. In his mind he had believed that Mimi was testing him, and that she would eventually want to date him, but time diminished his certainty, and it looked as though she preferred to be single than with a lover. Occasionally he thought about what could have happened between them had she never met Yamato or if they had not become DigiDestined. However, if Mimi had not been a DigiDestined, it was unlikely that they would have met in the first place. He frequently doubted himself.

"Thank you," Mimi said. She was smiling again. "Michael, you're a good friend. We have to fight sometimes to get past all the bad stuff, but it's worth it in the end, don't you think? I'm very glad to have met you, and I apologize in advance. Thank you!" She retained her friendly beam.

Michael stood. "You're a good friend too, possibly a better one than you make me out to be. And for being such an amazing friend, I'll pay the bill!"

Mimi's eyes fluttered heedlessly. "What did you just say?"

At first Michael was unsure how to rephrase the sentence. "Um, I'll get money from my pocket and—"

"Mike, did you forget that we're at Chloe's? This isn't a restaurant." She perceived skepticism in his body language. Had he truly forgotten that they were at a coffee shop and not a restaurant? Mimi shook her head after assuming that he had considered their conversation a date. Because her mood was beginning to lighten, however, she decided to brush the concept aside.

"Oh, you know… you're right," responded Michael, his face as red as a radish. "So you already paid! That slipped my mind for some reason, I'm sorry. Still, it's so good to see you again, Mimi, and I'm glad we had this conversation." He smiled respectfully and retrieved his mittens from his jacket as he turned his gaze to the snow outside. The temperature had likely lowered since they had entered Chloe's.

Mimi thanked the man behind the counter and followed Michael into the winter wonderland outside. It was somewhat chillier than it had been earlier, but to their surprise neither noticed a difference. The moonlight glowed luminously on the falling snow's sparkling gloss and the sky was lit like a Christmas tree covered entirely in white lights. The setting was extraordinarily amorous.

"Thank you again, Mimi," Michael said as he turned away from his friend. "There's just one problem: I didn't ask you what you did while I was away."

A small sigh of relief escaped Mimi's lips. "I never thought you would ask me." She put her hands on his shoulders and motioned for him to turn and look at her. Whispers of her holidays filled Michael's ear.

"My parents went out of town on Christmas Eve to visit a family friend. I was alone with my cat that night. All I did was watch soaps and play online chess with one of my classmates, even though I hadn't been in the mood. Mike, that happiness I'd once felt was gone, and that was the first night in my life when I'd admitted it to myself. It was like a message, one that somebody needed to deliver to me. Anyway, the next morning my parents came home and they cooked a big breakfast. We didn't talk much. It was Christmas Day and we ate quietly. That meal also helped open my eyes—I had hurt myself a lot because of aspects of my life that I'd never be able to change. How I've become kind of successful now is a mystery. Everything I am is because of Yamato! He was my first love and I think I'm going to spend the rest of my life drowning my will to be with him, Sora, Daisuke, Taichi… all of them. I miss them so much, but… life goes on." She threw her arms around Michael and hugged him firmly, causing him to gasp for air.

They parted a moment later. Michael moved his hand to hers as he felt the beginning of tears trickling down his face. Why was he crying?

Mimi's face had become one of warmth. "I should be getting home," she said as she released her hand from his. "It's getting late. Thanks for tonight, Michael, and I hope you don't end up failing psychology altogether. If you don't like it, why did you bother—"

"Who told you about that?" Michael's eyes narrowed as his tears stained his skin. "Well, I thought it would be interesting, but I had no idea what I was in for."

Mimi smiled. "Goodnight, Mike. Take care of yourself!" She gave him another hug and started off for home.

—

Clink-clank. A pair of keys unlocked the front door. Mimi had returned home shortly before midnight and she entered her house after exaggerating a sigh of contentment. The bubble bath had yet to exit her mind, her anxiousness to enjoy it stronger than before. After quietly ascending the stairs, she peeked into her parents' room to find an empty bed. They had evidently gone out. Mimi walked into her room, greeted by the pallid moonlight shining through her window. As she approached her desk, she nearly tripped over a bundle of sweaters, and she quickly switched the light on. She promised herself that she would clean the loose clothing the next day, but disbelief filled her mind.

For the majority of her life, Mimi had been a relatively untidy person. When she was younger, she had been incredibly obsessed with clothing and a lot of her friends had asked her for fashion advice. Since then, she found herself less interested with the latest trends, but she still had countless articles of clothing scattered throughout her room. Michael had attempted to help her become a more organized person two years earlier, and while it proved successful for a period of time, it was not maintained. He had admired her effort anyway.

A large computer sat at the back of her room. Mimi had not turned it on that morning, but it was on standby mode, leading her to assume that one of her parents had accessed their e-mail account. The computer droned hypnotically, reminding her of her father's snoring, and she sat down and shook the mouse. The desktop appeared and Mimi adjusted her vision to the still-blurry screen before clicking on the internet icon and typing in her e-mail address. She had been absent from online activity for two months because of her hectic schedule and her account was filled with e-mails that she possessed no interest in checking.

"Mail from the cooking club… course selection sheet… random junk…" Mimi deleted most of the e-mails and sighed as her finger clicked the mouse every few seconds. Her attention was turning to the bathroom and the misty feeling the hot water produced after flowing from the tap for five minutes. After removing thirty of the e-mails, she had grown bored and was becoming somewhat restless. She rose from her seat, ready to go into the bathroom when one of the e-mails at the bottom of the screen caught her eye.

"Yamato?" she questioned, acting almost unsurprised. "Of course… how long has it been?" It was titled How are things in the Big Apple?. She sat down and impetuously clicked on the e-mail, a container of pencils and pens landing on the floor as a result of her sudden movement. Mimi ignored the noise and folded her hands as she intently read Yamato's e-mail:

Mimi, I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Dad's been busy as usual and I had some stuff on my mind. The band's been lousy lately and most of us want to break for a while, so I've got nothing to do. I'm sorry I haven't called lately too, but… hey, you could have, right? Maybe you've also been busy. Anyway, I wanted to know if Sora and I could come see you since she's got time off work and I have nothing to do. Please respond soon.
—Yamato

Mimi reread the e-mail ten times over. Every word seemed dull and futile despite the generousness with which he had written them. A sigh later, she closed the window and sat on her bed, reviewing the past couple months. Sora had already returned to work because the e-mail had been dated December 12th—and Yamato was sitting around with nothing to do. Mimi knew him too well, and although he could have applied for a job in the past two months, it was unlikely. Her vision became foggy as tears began racing down her cheeks. Why didn't I check sooner? she screamed in her head.

There was a sharp silence followed by the sound of the living room heater clicking on from downstairs. Mimi had resumed her seat in front of the computer and logged on to her e-mail account again. It was too late to invite her friends to New York, but her desire to see them remained in tact. She pressed the "respond" button at the top of Yamato's e-mail and wrote:

I saw you again today. This time you were Hispanic. It's funny how all these people remind me of you, more so now than before. I'm really, really sorry for not getting back to you. My life is still kind of complicated, so I've been trying my best to get past all the bad stuff, but it's not easy. Sora's probably back at work and all, so… unfortunately, what you had planned is gone, but I want you to know that my semester ends in May and school doesn't resume until October. You might be busy with the band again by then, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not responding, I'd be very happy. If it's possible, please bring Sora too. We can make arrangements when you get back to me. Take care.
—Mimi

Suddenly, Mimi was relieved. She felt as though a large weight had been lifted off her shoulders and a smile appeared on her face as the clock at the bottom of the computer screen changed to 12:00 AM. Yamato usually responded quickly, and she knew that her received files would include an e-mail with his name in the next few days.

"Love comes in many shapes and sizes… and yours shaped me," she whispered. "And I'll be sure to tell you that when you visit in May."

Mimi turned the computer off and grabbed her housecoat. It was time for that bath.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is not supposed to represent an accurate timeline of the Digimon series. For example, the premise was in 1999 and this story was posted in 2007, but its dates do not necessarily match those of the series. Also, the major intersection most likely does not exist as I inserted it for the sake of storytelling. However, all other locations mentioned indeed exist.

The concept for Winter Illusions was devised in November 2006, and writing the story was definitely an experience because it took such a long time and life had been very unkind to me for a little while, which attributed to why I had been constantly pushing the publishing date forward. In a sense I had become the character of Mimi Tachikawa in real-life for a while, neurotically obsessing over one of my best friends who I lost in the end. It was a life lesson I learned the difficult way, but I will definitely apply it to all future friendships. Winter Illusions was finished in February 2007.

I hope you enjoyed this one-shot!

Dedicated to
Those looking
For a reason