✨ Welcome to the first string of On Your Heartstrings
This story was written because our childhood with the DigiDestined deserved an ending—
one that feels more like us.
An ending filled with love, music, tears… and plenty of laughter.
📌 If you enjoy the scene, don't forget to vote and share your thoughts in the comments—
every note you leave makes this melody even more beautiful.
Ready? Let's begin the journey…
Some goodbyes feel like scenes from dramatic movies…
But others?
They happen in a schoolyard, between cheap balloons,
and friends who wrap their feelings inside sandwiches covered in aluminum foil.
A goodbye like this
might seem simple…
But inside Mimi's heart?
A whole concert of tears was playing.
⸻
The sun was scattering its last orange threads across Tokyo's sky,
as if whispering:
"Goodbye, childhood."
⸻
In the back schoolyard,
among neglected grass and beneath a tired cherry tree,
a secret farewell party was taking place—
for one of the strangest and most beautiful girls of all:
Mimi Tachikawa.
⸻
Moments with friends:
Taichi arrived first—as usual—running as if on a rescue mission.
"Mimi! Don't worry. Even if an American movie director kidnaps you,
we'll come save you on a Digimon dinosaur!"
⸻
Sora was arranging the small table.
"It seems we won't be able to bring back the ones we love this time…"
Mimi replied lightly:
"Unless you can smuggle Tokyo into New York—then I'm in!"
⸻
Koshiro sat with his laptop, as always.
"I've prepared folders for you:
Hysterical Laughter, Public Embarrassment Moments,
and Weather-Induced Emotional Breakdown."
⸻
Joe was trying to hang balloons…
They all fell on him.
"I'm a doctor, not a decoration wizard!"
⸻
Kari and Takeru were writing memories on small cards.
"Do you remember when we thought your hat was abducted by aliens?"
"I still think it was a silent Digimon conspiracy!"
Mimi replied, laughing.
⸻
Mimi among them:
She laughed—a lot.
But between one laugh and the next, her eyes shimmered.
⸻
"Oh, thank you for this notebook!
I'll use it to write my dramatic novel:
A Girl Exiled to America Who Returns to Defeat
the Thief of the Last Cafeteria Cake."
⸻
They all laughed.
But when she hugged their gifts close,
a single tear escaped her eyes—
quickly wiped away before anyone could see it.
"Don't worry… I won't become a global star and forget you all.
I'll just pretend sometimes—purely for dramatic effect!"
⸻
The quiet corner:
In the corner…
Yamato.
Sitting in his regal silence,
watching her as if trying to carve her features into his memory
before she disappears from the screen.
⸻
Taichi couldn't take it and patted his shoulder.
"Come on, rock star.
Give us a legendary musical moment before our princess leaves."
⸻
Yamato only smiled.
A small smile.
But his eyes?
They said everything that words never did.
⸻
The end of the party:
As the light faded
and friends began to leave one by one,
Mimi excused herself
and walked away.
⸻
But not straight home.
At the School Gate
She climbed the stairs quietly
and stopped by the fence.
The air grew colder—
as if the sky itself whispered:
"Are you sure?"
⸻
She closed her eyes.
Took a deep breath.
⸻
Then… she heard him.
A voice behind her:
"You're leaving tomorrow?"
⸻
She turned slowly.
Yamato was standing there,
holding something small in his hands.
She looked at him—
and her heartbeat surged like a sudden storm.
⸻
"Yes…
My father got a new job,
and I got a suitcase bigger than my dreams."
⸻
He stepped closer.
"But… what if there's something worth staying for?"
⸻
She looked at him…
Her heart whispered, "Like what?"
But her lips stayed silent.
⸻
"I wrote something for you…"
He handed her the folded paper.
She opened it.
Musical notes—
simple, yet between the lines
were pauses that felt like long waiting moments.
⸻
"Does it have a name?"
she asked, her smile trembling
between humor and fear.
⸻
He answered in a whisper:
"Its name is… you."
⸻
Ending
They fell silent.
But their hearts were playing everything.
⸻
She pressed the paper to her chest.
"I'll make New York sing this melody—
whether it wants to or not."
⸻
He smiled softly.
"I was just… never good at staying."
⸻
And there—
Mimi didn't cry.
She lifted her head
and walked away…
without looking back.
⸻
And Yamato?
He stayed.
Carrying his voice in his pocket,
and his heart
inside a melody he never learned how to finish.
Between Two Strings… and an Unforgettable Laugh
⸻
Does love need a formal confession?
Or is it enough for someone
to place a flower around your wrist
and run away?
Maybe we never know when a story truly begins.
But we know very well
when it never ends.
⸻
Two weeks had passed since Mimi boarded the plane—
leaving behind her memories…
and some of her shoes, as she joked while laughing.
But the truth?
She had left behind half her heart.
Maybe a little more.
⸻
In New York,
life was fast and loud,
as if everything was trying to prove
it mattered more than nostalgia.
⸻
Mimi?
She was trying to adjust…
To the new house.
The new school.
And people who didn't understand
what "mini Japanese drama" meant
every single morning.
⸻
In Tokyo…
The others tried to act
as if she had never been there.
But everything around them
kept screaming her name.
⸻
"You know…"
Joe said while reheating his tea for the third time,
"It's way too quiet without Mimi yelling about balloon colors."
⸻
"And no one uses fuchsia anymore…"
Sora added with a faint smile.
⸻
Meanwhile, Koshiro was reading statistics
he had compiled himself:
"Our laughter has dropped by 37.8%
since Mimi left.
Drama levels are down by 89%."
⸻
Taichi nodded seriously.
"I think I miss hearing her say,
'Taichi, don't touch my hair when you talk!'"
⸻
In the corner, as always, sat Yamato.
Quiet.
Silent.
His guitar resting in his hands
as if it were translating what he couldn't say.
In a moment of stillness,
his mind drifted back
to one of those days that seemed ordinary—
yet changed everything.
A Memory
It was a warm summer day.
They were all sitting by the river
during a school trip—
water flowing, Kari laughing,
Joe desperately trying to make a sandwich
that wouldn't collapse in the middle.
Mimi was making flower bracelets.
⸻
Suddenly, she lifted one
and slipped it around Yamato's wrist, laughing:
"Now you're the Flower King, Yamato!
You have to act like it!"
⸻
Everyone laughed.
But Yamato didn't.
He stared at the bracelet…
then at her face.
Her voice.
Her laughter.
The way she tucked a flower into her hair
as if telling the world, "Look at me!"
⸻
In that moment,
for the first time,
he felt something strange tapping in his chest—
like a new kind of music
he didn't know how to play.
He didn't fully understand it.
He was still in sixth grade,
barely knew how to hold a normal conversation with a girl.
But his heart?
It had already begun
playing her name—
softly.
⸻
Another Memory
Days later,
they were playing in the schoolyard—
running, shouting, laughing,
feet pounding against the hot asphalt.
And Mimi—
as always—
wanted to outrun everyone
in her tiny pink-heeled shoes.
She tripped.
⸻
She fell and cried out.
Her knee was scraped,
her ankle twisted.
A strange silence fell over the place.
Before anyone else could move,
Yamato ran toward her.
Without hesitation.
⸻
He bent down, lifted her into his arms,
and ran toward the infirmary.
⸻
"You're… carrying me?!"
Mimi whispered, embarrassed,
her voice barely steady.
In that moment,
she felt something she didn't quite understand—
like small butterflies dancing in her stomach,
her face turning redder than ever.
⸻
Taichi noticed and laughed:
"Whoa, is Yamato turning into a knight in shining armor?"
⸻
But Yamato didn't answer.
He kept running,
holding her tighter—
as if the whole world
was trying to make her fall again.
⸻
From that day on…
Something changed.
The way he looked at her—longer.
The way he cared—deeper.
His silence—heavier than before.
⸻
Yet no one ever spoke of it aloud.
As if everyone felt
that a special melody
had begun playing between them
since that day.
The Present
"Yamato… is that a new tune?"
Sora asked, sitting beside him.
He hesitated.
"Just practicing… nothing important."
But the truth?
Every note whispered:
Mimi.
⸻
New York
Mimi sat in a Digimon training field,
trying to focus,
but her new shoes hurt,
and her hair danced in the wind
like a dramatic shampoo commercial.
Then…
A new voice appeared:
"Hi! I'm Michael—
half American, half Digimon,
and 100% fun!"
⸻
Mimi laughed out loud:
"And I'm Mimi—
half Japanese, half Korean drama,
and completely homesick for ramen!"
⸻
From the very first minute,
she felt it—
He was genuinely kind.
Her first new friend…
in a long time.
Messages
After three days of hesitation,
Mimi finally decided to message Yamato.
"Hey… how is everyone?
Are you still ignoring Taichi,
or are you two secret best friends now?
P.S. American ramen tastes like someone forgot the seasoning.
Save me."
⸻
Yamato read the message…
and just stared at it.
He didn't reply right away.
But that evening, sitting on his rooftop,
he finally sent back:
"Everything's fine here…
even when it isn't.
Ramen tastes different…
without you."
⸻
The Call
One day,
Mimi's phone rang—
it was Yamato.
⸻
"Hello…"
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"Good. And you?"
"I'm fine…
I met a new friend.
Michael. He's really nice!"
⸻
Yamato smiled—just a little.
But his grip tightened around his guitar
without him noticing.
"That's good.
I'm glad you're… okay."
⸻
The call didn't last long.
But his heart stayed restless
for hours afterward.
⸻
End of the Chapter
Between two cities,
and between two silences,
the only music he could hear…
was her voice.
Her laughter.
And his heart?
Still trying to learn
how to play
a missing string.