Tortured Minds, Broken Souls

Part One: Dreams

All our dreams can come true, if we only have the courage to pursue them.– Walt Disney

The sky...

Never before had he seen it so... so blue. It was as though a painter, one who saw past the world as it was now, took up his brush and covered the canvas with the purest of blues– the kind that only existed within the dreams and fantasies of children. A clear blue horizon that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Sadly, it was also lacking clouds and a sun. It was just... blue.

Wind rippled around him, playing with his unkempt hair and pajamas in a feeble attempt at knocking him off course; he paid it no mind, knowing that dreams could do him no harm in the long run, and continued his journey through the empty sky. Sure, it could have been one of those simple flying dreams, where he fell in the end, thus resulting in a rather quick awakening... but it wasn't.

After all, he'd dreamed this for the past five years.

How did he know that, you wonder? Well, in just a few days, a rather chilling anniversary would come and hit him upside the head. This anniversary would not bear witness to candles or presents or cheers... It would only see tears... aching hearts... and pain.

Nearly five years ago, Digimon had walked the earth– if only for a day– and he, Takato Matsuki, had been the main tool to create and destroy these creatures. Not only that... but his girlfriend had also lost her father that day as well... When the monsters– it was the only way he could describe them, although he himself believed them to be more than that degrading term– disappeared into the sky, he and his friends had thought that everything was over... done

That was... until a week before the one-year mark. You see, Takato started having dreams. Not just any dreams, mind you... but ones of flying through the sky– like the one he was having now! In the morning, when he finally escaped the repeating visions, the boy was greeted by a pounding, skull-splitting headache that lasted the entire day and nearly drove him mad. The pang ended on the day of the anniversary... but always came back the next year, stronger than ever, dragging the dreams along with it.

He wanted to tell someone– anyone– about these strange events, but Takato didn't want his friends and family to worry. Especially Rika. However... it felt wrong to keep such a large secret from the one person he loved. Was it wrong...? Honestly, he wasn't sure.

Then again... there was one person he was always tempted to tell: Yamaki. Why? Why tell a person he hardly knew and not the girl he cared for? Well, the man seemed to have great timing, you know? Right when the pain hit its climax on the morning of the yearly-mark, Mr. Yamaki would call and simply ask, "So, how are you feeling?" Strange, right?

It... it was as though he wanted Takato to tell him...

The boy sighed and gazed out. Soon the dream would end, and he'd be left tired and aching and begging his mom to let him stay home. Who cared if he was doing 'good' in school at the moment– that he had 'perfect' attendance? Not him! "If you miss ONE day of school, mister, you'll miss a LOT of days at the park!" Yeah... that's what his mom told him; it's not like it MATTERED if he got sick, huh?

A low humming sound filled his ears; Takato didn't even have to look to know where and what it was: a Kabuterimon was gliding right below him. Big shocker there... It glanced at him, nodded in acknowledgment, then pointed toward a large tower rising out in the horizon.

...odd, he'd never seen that before.

Perhaps he saw more as the years went by...? Come to think of it, he didn't see the flying bug Digimon until his second year. Shrugging to himself, the brown haired teen set his sights for the one thing that decided to mar the beauty of the sky.

Marble and glass seemed to be what the tower was mainly made of; up close, he could see the detail put into the walls and ledges that had been blind to his eye from the distance he'd first seen it. Carvings curled out, forming grotesque gargoyles that resembled different well known Digimon. Each one seemed to grin and welcome him. The windows, stained in such a variety of colors that the boy could only stare in awe, depicted various scenes that one could only assume was the creatures' history. For some reason, Takato couldn't take his eyes off of one window in particular... One of a person, visage darkened so as to confuse the viewer (at least, that was his understanding), standing before a group of Digimon with a optimistic glow in the background... as though that person was leading the Digimon to a safe haven...

Shaking his head, Takato glided down to the opened door; try all he might, the image of salvation would not fade from his mind. When he woke up in the morning, he'd have to attempt a sketch– heck, he'd have to make a few sketches! Bare feet met plush, carpeted material as he landed softly. He coughed. Didn't expect such luxurious decoration in a land he figured was ruled by Digimon. Then again, who was he to expect so little from the creatures?

"Ah, you're here!"

Huh...? The brown haired boy snapped his head up in shock. Before him stood an Angemon, staff placed out before him proudly. Its wings flapped in anticipation as it awaited Takato's seemingly-important response. Of course, the poor teen could only stare in an uneducated stupor.

Smiling gently, the angel Digimon reached out his hand. "Are you okay, Creator...?" questioned the creature in a worried tone.

What did it say...? "C-Creator...?" Takato mouthed. Why... why would that Angemon...? Just as he was about to give his thoughts a voice, everything around him blurred. The Digimon before him faded; the tower's ravishing decor became dull; and the perfectly blue sky... melted into black.

> > > > > > > > > >

His head was already pounding when he woke; the natural side-effect of the persistent dreams, yes, but it still seemed to take him by surprise. Takato clenched his teeth and sat up, struggling to gain control of his unfocused eyes. How on Earth did he live through this every year...? Well, he knew that he wasn't exactly strong or anything. 'I'm just stubborn,' he told himself, although at times he didn't believe that was the true reason.

Papers were scattered about the boy's room; each one held a small story: pictures, homework, rambles, you get the idea. Clothing covered the floor in a rather mottled fashion, making many wonder if he had a carpet or not (of course he did– it was... it was, you know, carpet-like...). It was just your average, run-of-the-mill teenager room. Nothing special– no posters, no stereo system, no computer... Okay, so he DID have a PlayStation2... which meant that he had a television, too... but that didn't matter!

Groaning, the teen weakly massaged his temples as he attempted to think about the new additions to his yearly dream. Creator... He'd not heard that word in such a long time. In fact, he thought he'd never hear it again. Sucks to be wrong, huh...?

Still, that dream probably meant nothing– just some leftovers from five years ago that wanted to screw with his mind and make him go insane. After all, how often were his dreams real? Once? That doesn't make them very believable then, right? ...but, would he have met Rika had he not had that one, seemingly-unimportant dream...?

Maybe there was more to this than he let himself believe.

Tmp! Tmp! Tmp!

"Takato, you had BETTER be up!"

A smile, frailand lacking much effort, forced itself upon his face; shaking his throbbing head, he called, "I am, Mom!" and slowly rose to his feet. Yes, Mrs. Matsuki was STILL the sleepyheaded teen's alarm clock. Wrong? I think not. Depressing? Well... perhaps a little. Tossing on the closest shirt (a red, long-sleeved t-shirt with a black dragon scrolling down the left arm), the brown haired boy sighed inwardly. School didn't sound good to him– not today...

Alas, like it or not, our poor goggle-less teen had to go.

He just wouldn't like it.

> > > > > > > > >

A/N: Ummm... konnichiwa! ...don't give me that look–at least I reappeared before the one-year mark! Yeah, so... anyway, this is the first thing I can update right now. It's a measly update, I know, but I want to get this idea out to everyone. This little story is probably only gonna be about three chapters long; it's an interlude, if you will, to the soon-to-be-posted sequel to my beloved 'Fated.' The title of the sequel? 'Destined.' (Lame, I know... so sue me!)

I have this whole thing planned out, it's just that finding time to type is very hard. College+work+life(and video games...)one big stressful mess. I'm typing a little bit at a time, and hopefully will have the next chapters to this done within the week (so long as I can scrounge up some spare time). I WAS planning on updating a lot of things, but the only chapter that is even remotely close to being done is the one for 'School Day Blues.' So be on the lookout for random updates from little old me!

Anyway, this is my own idea, made up shortly after I received a few reviews saying that I should continue with the 'Fated' storyline. What do you think? Good idea so far? Continue? Scrap? Go back to whatever hole I crawled out of? ...please don't choose the latter.

All-in-all, I just wanted to tell everyone that I AM NOT DEAD! I also have a deviantart page (check my info). I'd love to hear what you guys think; and it'd help if you told me what stories YOU want updated (again, check the list on my info!)! Well, since I'm running on pure sugar right now, I'd better go work on a few fics! Ja ne!–Angel-Chan (Rukato forever!)