Disclaimer: Digimon belong to Akiyoshi Hongo.

xxx

" Watashi wa yume to watashi ga hoshīdesu (I dream and wish)"

A melody, that was soft and gentle like the petals of a just-picked flower, began spreading in the air. In the large hall several men stood up to ask their girlfriends to dance. The remaining guests, who sat at their untidy tables, fiddled with their smartphone or drank the last drops of wine that were in their glass goblets; others, however, admired the couples who danced out of boredom. He was in that small circle, but he was a bit different from the others; he was watching those dancers, but they weren't his true interest. Subtly every three seconds he set his eyes upon something far more interesting: a young woman, whose long auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail, who was straing at the dancing couples blankly and cranky. He wondered what she was thinking at that moment. Most likely she considered them as idiots, fools who were having a good time and didn't realize how much life can be disappointing and absurd; he bet she was also judging him that way: he didn't even remember why he was at that party. However, although he was considered as an idiot, he could say he was a satisfied man: since we're talking about Ruki, it was an honour to be part of her twisted thoughts, dark like pitch.

He started again staring at the cheerful and carefree young couples, but after a second he couldn't resist the temptation to lay his eyes on her figure once more and... Busted. She withered him with a glance.

"Lee, I see that boredom has hit rock bottom."

He gulped and realized how much he could be reckless and stupid sometimes.

" Ah, I was just looking at the walls."

"Sure, actually they are beautifully decorated. I believe this building was built by a European architect long time ago: the style is too refined, too far from the Japanese and the oriental one."

He loved it when she began talking about art.

"Do you think so? I agree with you. I especially love the floor:I think it's unique."

"Jenrya speaking about artistic styles and art is dangerous. Now I really got confirmation that boredom has taken over you."

"It isn't true!"

She sighed with irritation and resignation. Then she stared at the dancing couples again, and all of a sudden made him a proposal.

"Do you want to dance?"

"What?!"

"Are you bored or not?"

"Yes, but ..."

"Then let's "run out the clock"!

"Whatever you want to do."

He took her small and perfect hand and led her toward the dance floor, stiff like a tree trunk. She lingered for a second and put her hands behind his neck, then she stared at him irritated when she noticed he hesitated to touch her. Although his body was a mix of feelings and sensations, he managed to summon up the courage and put his hands on her hips. They began to dance and both stared at each other's eyes.

In truth, while she didn't care much about that moment, Jen was experiencing one of his most paradisiacal and infernal moments of his life. He managed to dance very well as usual, but inside him every organ and cell of his body was celebrating. The poor young man found himself struggling against wants and his own body. His hands twitched on their will and he was making a great effort to resist. He wanted to move his hands toward her back, embrace her and hold her close to him as tight as he could, as gently as possible, like if he wanted to preserve her from any other form of pain that could upset her.

They continued whirling in the fully lit up hall and he felt like if their souls had reached a level of understanding they had never reached before. The sound of violins didn't relax his tension, indeed it prompted him to admire even more the woman who had become his friend. He surveyed her face and found himself contemplating her beauty once again. The upturned nose that made her so refined, those sharp and wonderful eyes, that white skin and that tiny mouth that inspired him with myriad of desires; he found it hard to control himself.

However, when the violins and the harps began playing a melody as sweet as honey, the young man became unable to restrain his feelings and did what the heart and every organ of his body told him: he kissed her gently and his head started to not think anymore; the butterflies in his stomach began fluttering again and he hoped that moment would never end. Unfortunately, as his Sensei always said, nothing lasts forever. Ruki broke away from him and Jen felt that his heart was beating faster and faster, like if he was about to have a heart attack.

"Jen ..."

"Tell Me, Ruki!"

"Jen ..."

"Tell me! Come on!"

"Jen ..."

"Ruki, I…"

"Jen!"

"What?"

He suddenly felt that something warm stopped heating him making the intense cold penetrate in the bone; a light hit him. He covered his eyes with the arms and then met two pupils surrounded by a fuchsia iris.

"This can't be."

"Good morning, my beloved big brother."

"This can't be true."

"What's the matter? You look groggy."

"Shaochung, last night! What did I do yesterday ...-he stopped after remembering he had taken Juri and Takato to the airport and then, tired, had decided to go to bed earlier than usual.

"It was all a damn dream!"

The girl let escape a chuckle.

"You know, you called Ruki in sleep."

"A dream".

Shaochung looked at him worried as he stared into space as a snowman, but decided not to investigate the matter also because it was too late and she had to go to school.

" Jen, now I'm going out."

"Bye."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I've never felt better."

She left the room and shut the door firmly, hoping to revive her brother even making him angry.

"A dream. Another silly dream I confused with reality ".

The dark-haired adult lay back on the bed and drew up the blue duvet.

"Five more minutes."

He smiled when he felt the warm blanket on his body, but the gloom was always there. That day he didn't feel like doing anything, but a glance at his alarm clock immediately woke him up, remembering he had to go to work.

Everything he had to do was against his desire. That morning he had even refused to drink his beloved milk. He had been dreaming about Ruki for weeks, but he couldn't remember well what hey were doing in his previous dreams: his memories faded very easily. He missed her a lot. He hated the fact that she had gone to France again, he hated the fact that he hadn't succeeded to confess what he felt for her. He hated himself so much that he would have wanted to go back in time and slap his counterpart of the past. Who cared if she rejected him? He would have felt bad, sure, but after a few days everything would have passed and he wouldn't have dreamt about her every night. He hated even the fact that little by little he was turning in a lovesick man, who had lost the head for a woman who only saw him as a friend; a platonic love for all intents and purposes.

He saw from the window of his office two lovebirds who were walking embraced because of the cold, and they were laughing happy; they were probably talking about the gifts they will buy for Christmas; or they were just chatting about what they will have for lunch. He would have liked to act as a normal person too; he would have liked to go back home and see her cheerful and smiling, hug her and spend a pleasant evening after a stressful day of work; but it absolutely wasn't like that. Not to mention Christmas! Juri and Takato had gone to holiday, Shaochung had her boyfriend she was going to spend the night with and he...He had his computer and a cup of warm chocolate.

Had she ever dreamt about him? He felt that the sadness took the upper hand while he was tidying his desk. No. That was the answer and, even if it made him cry, he had to accept it, and he also had to accept the fact that she might be engaged with some rich and fascinating Parisian guy. Here it was the end of the unilateral love story.

He went back home and took his shoes off, making the warm enter inside of him. Shaochung hadn't returned yet and very probably, considering that it already was seven p.m., she won't come back. Loneliness: that was the key word of that day and that whole period that started from Ruki's departure.

He sank the head in a soft pillow and started remembering bitterly that day, when she told him that she had to go to France, since her mother had an important fashion show in Nice. She told him that bad news with so much coldness that she left him interdicted, even when she showed a sweet side consoling Juri who, desperate, started crying. How could have he fallen in love with a woman who, unlike him, who gave feelings a lot of importance, had got a frozen heart? Mystery. A question he didn't know how to answer to. Yes, he also could be colder than the North Pole sometimes, especially when he was younger and still attended the elementary school; at times he laughed when he thought about that: when he was a child, he was a sort male version of Ruki: unpleasant, spoiled, violent and all the defects that exist on the world. In that moments he remembered her face, he would have preferred being like his younger counterpart.

The day before her departure, he proposed her to stay at his place after a party everyone had organized for her. Ruki had accepted (strangely) with the intention of drinking the whole night. At the end she was so drunk that the mind had abandoned her body; and the young woman, after laughing too much, fell asleep in his bed. Jenrya, even if he decided not to drink that bottle of vodka because of his low-tolerance for alcohol, was experiencing the same effects of a drunkenness and, when he found himself in front of Ruki's angelic face, he lost his mind. He gently caressed her soft and candid cheeks and then, taken by a sudden melancholy, he embraced her knowing that she wouldn't wake up before the following morning. He still thought that moment had perhaps been one of the best one he had ever lived in twenty-three years. The silence, her light breath that was almost imperceptible to the hearing, the pulsations of their hearts that were beating at the same time: a scene that had become a photo in his brain. That night he would have wanted to cry, he had admitted it to himself. He tightened her even more at the thought that he wouldn't hear her pleasant voice anymore starting from the next day.

"Why is it impossible to travel in the time? Why can't I make up for the mistakes I have made with you? Why can't I peer at the future that awaits me for a few minutes? Why can't I check, also only for a second, if in my future I will end up happy or you won't be a part of my life?"

He started humming a symphony Ruki always sang when she painted or was alone. He fell asleep again, like if it was a lullaby; he gladly hoped that time, at least only that time, he wouldn't dream about her. His heart absolutely needed a break.

xxx

That day his thermometer registered minus one, and he had been so prudent and careful that he hadn't even thought he should have worn a scarf, a hat and a pair of gloves, especially the gloves; his hands, which he held in the pockets of his coat, risked to become two dices of ice and his fingers were about to lose their sensibility. What was the point in keeping an old thermometer if he never looked at it before going out? Even the seats of the subway were completely frozen; not to mention the poles, one of which he had to hang to since he didn't find a place to sit.

"Moumantai, things can't be worse, can't they, Terriermon?"

Actually, after saying that sentence, he thought something worse might happen: he might meet his mother or his father and be scolded for his indiscretion. "What kind of example do you want to give your little niece?" His mother would have said and then she would have put a hand on her forehead, desperate; on the other hand, his father wouldn't have said anything: he wouldn't have wasted time scolding a twenty-three-year-old man.

He knew it wasn't a good thing, but over time the father son relationship had become colder than the snow that covered the roads that day. Probably it all happened because of the Digimon, because of the adolescence, he just didn't know the reason. He only knew the empathy that there was before didn't exist anymore. He saw a chubby child who was happily talking to his dad. He hated changes. He didn't care how much his Sensei told him that things have to change in the life, he couldn't accept them. After the dark period following the battle against the D-Reaper, his parents had started quarrelling more frequently and his mother had started crying more often; in his opinion they were very close to the divorce, which had luckily never happened. After the college, instead, other problems began. His father didn't accept the fact that he hadn't decided to work in Hypnos, and he continuously pushed him to change his mind. Jenrya loved so much his company and didn't intend to work in Hypnos, although he admired Yamaki and Reika.

He got off the subway and went out of it. He crossed a long road full of great and expensive shops, all lit by red and yellow lights. He noticed that in front of a shop window there were a lot of people, and he drew near to that beautiful decorated shop window. His eyes lit up: dogs, adorable puppies that clumsily jumped in a coloured box. Among those there was a little female dog that had got a red bow around its neck and stared at him curiously. The spot that was on its right eye was about to drive him crazy, and he loved its small brown tail that it moved happily.

"Hi, little girl. Do you want to come with me, don't you?"

Yes, he had decided. A puppy as a Christmas gift for himself: he was definitely going to buy it, so he could spend Christmas with that furry friend, which reminded him of Terriermon. He wanted it at all costs.

Though a sort of shout interrupted that moment full of sweetness and goodness. He turned his head and saw a blonde woman who was hugging a poor man's arm while she was pointing out a flashy dress. He arched the eyebrows and became convinced that women really were unique and strange creatures. However, subsequently, a familiar smell penetrated into his nostrils: cherry blossoms, the smell of a shampoo. He scrutinized the surrounding environment carefully and finally saw her: the arms crossed, the weight of the body on an only leg and that "Mother, that dress is a shame for the humanity." He smiled.

"Ruki! Ruki!"

She turned to him and he noticed a veil of surprise in her violet eyes.

"Jenrya! Jen!" She approached him and smiled, joyful.

"Please, smile once more."

"Hi, Jen. What a coincidence!"

"A real coincidence! Are you with your mother?"

"Unfortunately yes, I am. I need relax. The flight was tiring. She had been speaking about mawkish stuff for hours."

"When did you arrive?"

"Last night, very late. Mum has to talk to another stupid fashion agency."

She curiously stared at the shop window full of little dogs and then stared at Jenrya with a malicious smile.

"Has the wise Jenrya a weak spot for little dogs?"

He violently blushed and the bridge of his nose became red fire.

"It isn't like that! I was...I was buying the food for my nephew's rabbit, that's all."

"Je te croirai."

"I can't speak French! What has she just said?"

He looked like an idiot while he was looking at her. He didn't know what to say, he was so happy that he would have been able to hug her and to kiss her without thinking too much about the consequences. His beloved woman had returned to Tokyo, was in front of him and he didn't know what to say. Where was the Jenrya he used to be? He suddenly felt a warm thing timidly touch his hand.

"Your hands are frozen! Jen, you will risk a hypothermia if you don't immediately go to a warm place!"

"Please, be worried for me once more". He scratched his dark hair, embarrassed. "Ruki Makino is worried for me, isn't it strange?"

She pinched his hand.

"Stop to act like Ryou!"

"Ouch! It hurt, Ruki!"

"Damn...You are really..."

"A couille?"

"Yes! You're a couille!"

"I missed that word. It's the only French word I know, and it means idiot: I don't mind at all.

She blushed and shook the head. She took his hand again, smiling once more.

"C'mon! Let's go to drink something warm!"

"Wait! And your mother?"

"She will understand. I am twenty-four years old now."

Still hand in hand they went to a cafe and chose to sip a cup of warm chocolate. Ruki laughed one more time when Jenrya finished drinking it and his mouth was covered in chocolate.

"Look at your face, Jen!"

"You haven't seen anything!"

"Do you dirty your mouth every morning? I know well how much you love milk."

"Not really. Only today it has happened..."

"Yes, sure."

"Perhaps because when I'm with you I don't feel the need to be perfect."

"You're the strangest person I've ever met without doubt."

He smiled and lifted the shoulders.

They went out of the cafe, calm and serene, and walked near to the shops of the streets of Tokyo.

"In this period in Paris the shops are full of vulgar and gilded decorations. There Christmas is another thing."

"Are those shops a shame for the conception of art then?"

"Don't try to talk about art, you aren't good at it."

"At least I try; you never talk about computers."

"I'm not interested in binary numbers and those other witchcrafts."

"Witchcrafts?"

"There are a lot of things that are considered as witchcrafts. Even the eyes of that puppy you were looking at before are witchcrafts."

"I'm not good at lying, am I?"

"I think it isn't an ability of yours."

"Thanks for the sincerity."

"You know, Jen, I missed you, I have to admit it. Sometimes I need someone like you."

"This is one of those sentences I have always wanted to hear from you."

He smiled looking younger than his age, like an excited child.

"I missed you so much that my life had become a sky without stars."

"You are exaggerated. Have you watched too many soap operas lately or have you just binge-watched cartoons with your nephew?"

He didn't answer her. He stared at the sky, which had become orange like her hair, and noticed that some stars already shone in the firmament.

"Hey, Ruki."

"What's the matter?"

"What would you do if all of this was only a part of a dream? "

"A dream? Goddammit, Jen, where do these philosophical questions come from?"

"No, seriously. What would you do if you suddenly woke up in your bed, in Paris...Without me."

She looked at him with a worried expression, but then she lifted the head toward the sky.

"You know, Jen, this could sound strange if it's said by someone like me, but it wouldn't be a problem for me."

"What?"

"This wouldn't be only a dream; it would also be something beautiful. Dreams are special, magic, they could affect your mood in a negative or in a postive way. I'm dreaming about you, so this means that I would like to meet you, I want to meet you, I wish to see you again. Then I assure you that, if all of this is a dream for real, when I wake up the first thing I will do will be calling you."

"This sounded weird, too weird."

"I know it, but it is what I'm feeling. Artists are made in this way. You don't have to be the one who comforts me every time.

He turned and looked at her with his deep grey eyes, full of sweetness.

"Well. "He drew near to her and touched her cheek with a frozen hand, while she, by instinct, grabbed his other hand which was more frozen than the first one. "This would be one of the best dreams of my life"

They looked at each other and for the first time he noticed a veil of true happiness in her eyes.

She punched him in the arm.

"You are a couille!"

"I know."

He leaned his forehead on hers for only a second and then he started looking at the sky again, holding her hand. He didn't feel cold anymore. Her hand was warming not just his body and his hand, but what mattered the most was that she also managed to warm his heart.

"Why do humans think that dreams are something so away from the reality? And if the distance between me and Ruki disappears thanks to dreams? I don't know if this is a dream or the reality, but I promise that, if it is a real dream, as soon as I wake up, I will call her and I will talk to her until my heart gets the whole necessary love."

They stood there, hand in hand, looking at the immense firmament that could reset their distance in dreams.

Though, you know this well, humans usually forget about what they dreamt the night before. Jenrya couldn't remember that strange promise he had made to himself in that dream, so he still felt like if his heart lacked of something, something very important...But he kept on hoping that someday he will see her again.

"Still...I also could buy a ticket flight to Paris. I would show up at her door." He smiled. "That would be a great Christmas present for both...I think.

xxx

Oh well: melancholy fits Jenrya so much; he is so phylosophical and caring, so it isn't difficult for me imagining him like this (even if it's a bit sad writing this adorable guy in a state of depression XD) I don't know if in the future I will continue this to give Jenrya a good ending at least, but I hope you will like this story :).

See you next time!

Willow