Some stories never truly end.
They simply change the faces of their heroes,
and continue in secret—
as if they mature quietly inside hearts that dare not confess.
Three years have passed…
yet the pain has not grown old.
⸻
Three years…
Not as long as they once believed…
and not as short as they had hoped.
Two years in which dreams grew,
and hearts quietly shrank.
Mimi?
She became a small star in the streets of New York.
She sang at student festivals, wrote dozens of songs…
but never named a single one after Yamato.
She sang, laughed, clapped—
and at night, returned to her room,
writing on the walls of her imagination:
"Do you still hear my voice… even now?"
⸻
In Tokyo,
Yamato was singing too…
but his voice had learned a deeper kind of silence.
The Teen-Age Wolves matured,
filling crowded halls, selling albums, signing shirts.
Yet every time he held his guitar,
he felt something missing—
as if a string refused to sound…
unless he remembered a pink voice once singing to frogs in the Digital World.
⸻
As for Sora…
She was still by his side.
They laughed, went to the movies,
spoke of the universities ahead.
But something small in her eyes
always feared the question she never asked:
"Is your heart here… or there?"
⸻
Koushiro entered the world of research.
He wrote his first paper on "Digital Nostalgia and Its Effect on Emotional Bonds."
He told his professor:
"When we love, we instinctively return to the place where we first met—
even if it was another world."
And Joe?
He chose to become a doctor.
He told Taichi:
"I want to understand pain… not just treat it."
⸻
Taichi himself?
He slipped into the routine of study,
carrying his feelings in his backpack,
hiding them between science and mathematics books.
Yet every night…
he replied to a message from Mimi.
Messages that said little,
but were enough to keep memory alive.
"How was your day?"
"I sent you a song I wrote… don't laugh!"
At first, she wrote as a friend.
But with time,
something began to seep between her lines…
A longing never declared,
and a pain they quietly shared.
As if they had become…
two faces of the same weary heart.
⸻
A Short Scene – Mimi's Phone
[Friends Group Chat]
Sora:
"I went to the movies with Yamato yesterday! The film was terrible, but the company was nice."
Kari:
"Photo or it didn't happen!"
Yamato:
"Don't believe her. The movie made me consider escaping the theater."
Mimi reads.
And writes nothing.
She only smiles… and lowers the screen's brightness.
Then she opens a small notebook
and writes in slanted handwriting:
"Your voice… was the last thing I ever wanted to forget."
And she sings to herself a song
that has not yet been recorded.
⸻
The Decision to Return: When the Heart Says "Now"
She did not return because the lights had dimmed…
nor because her heart had healed.
She returned because longing sometimes grows heavier than staying.
And because there is a tree near her school…
that still remembers the echo of her laughter.
Her father was arranging old papers by the window when she suddenly said:
"Your contract is over, isn't it?"
He looked at her with a gentle smile.
"Yes. After all these years… it's time to go back."
Mimi fell silent for a moment, then spoke as if reading an inner announcement from her heart:
"Today I received an email from the DigiDestined Children Organization… they want me to sing at a charity concert in Tokyo."
Her father raised his eyebrows in soft surprise.
"You'll be singing in Japan again?"
She shrugged, a half-smile on her lips.
"Maybe… it's time for me to return too. Not just for you—but for myself."
⸻
Her mother entered quietly, carrying a cup of coffee and a warm look of farewell.
"We're traveling in three days. Will you go ahead of us?"
Mimi nodded.
"I'd like to arrive two days before the concert… to arrange a few things… or maybe, to arrange my heart."
Her mother laughed softly, then pulled her into a hug.
"Come back as you are… and don't forget—no matter how much you grow, you're still the girl with the flower in her hair."
⸻
That night, Mimi stood by her window, gazing at the lights of New York as one looks into a mirror that knows all their secrets.
She whispered to herself:
"New York… you were my loud song.
But you were never the home of my heart."
She took one last photo of the city and wrote beneath it:
"Goodbye, city of raised voices…
we're returning to where silence lives… and where songs still long."
Then she laughed as she placed her suitcase by the door:
"Wait for me, everyone… the pink is on its way."
And she left—
leaving behind the taste of longing in America's air… and a smile on her window.
Backstage – Moments Before the Concert
Preparations were moving swiftly. Stage lights were being tested, equipment adjusted, and the band played experimental notes in the background.
Yamato stood beside Sora, fastening the leather band around his wrist, his eyes scanning the stage as if trying to control a hidden tension.
"You seem more nervous than usual," Sora said with a small smile, leaning closer to straighten his collar.
He replied quietly, gripping his guitar:
"There's something I can't explain… I feel like tonight will be different."
Before she could answer, the event manager appeared—a poised woman with a firm gaze and a notebook in hand.
"Yamato, a small change before you go on. The guest singer… will perform with you."
He raised an eyebrow.
"What? With the band? Without rehearsal?"
She didn't hesitate.
"She chose a part from your new song 'Lost Memories'—the second verse. The one you once said:
'If there were a female voice here… the song would finally be complete.'"
Yamato's eyes flickered between resistance and thought.
The manager continued confidently:
"Tonight… you'll discover what that song was missing."
Then she left, leaving behind curiosity—and something like unease in his gaze.
Sora gently placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry… who knows? The voice your melody has been waiting for might be closer than you think."
At the other side of the hall, their friends were gathering in the front rows.
Joe reviewed his exam schedule on his phone.
Koushiro sent performance notes through a special app.
Takeru and Kari argued over the best ice-cream flavor for after the show.
And Taichi?
He smiled without knowing why, his eyes fixed on the stage—as if his heart alone sensed that a surprise was coming.
Sora stood beside Yamato, who still stared at the floor as though trying to read an unwritten note.
She smiled and whispered gently, brushing his sleeve:
"You know… even when you say nothing… your voice still reaches."
He lifted his eyes toward her, searching for meaning.
She continued warmly:
"Whatever the song, whoever the guest is… you, Yamato, will always be the first melody that's never forgotten."
Then she gave him that small smile of hers—the one that always came just before a moment of truth.
The Scene: On Stage
The lights dim. The audience waits.
Yamato strikes the first note of "Memories."
His voice is low, slightly hoarse… as if the words are emerging from a heart that never quite healed.
Yamato:
"In the corners of the past, I saw you…
your shadow among autumn leaves,
your laughter in the air…
and nothing remained for me but you."
He plays carefully, as though every string might break if pressed too hard.
Then…
Mimi's Entrance
A soft female voice, steeped in longing, flows from behind the curtain.
As if the light itself recognizes its owner and turns toward her.
Mimi steps forward with steady strides,
her pink hair dancing beneath the lights,
her eyes searching for something… or someone.
Mimi:
"I used to hear you between songs…
and try to forget the melody,
but it always returned… in your voice."
The audience freezes.
Time itself seems to pause.
Yamato stares at her, as though his voice has vanished from his throat.
The background music rises slightly… then softens.
The microphone is in her hand… but her heart is in his.
Her voice blends with his in the next verse, as if time itself is being rearranged:
Mimi & Yamato together:
"Our memories are not just longing,
but a pulse that does not die…
a silence that cannot be forgotten…
and a song… left unfinished."
For a moment,
Mimi's fingers brush his as she takes the mic from him.
His hands tremble—
and he looks at her hand as though it burns him with a tenderness he recognizes.
The audience watches them…
but their eyes are only on each other.
In the front row, Sora smiles softly.
Taichi bites his lip in silence.
Koushiro lowers his gaze… then raises it again, as if hearing something for the first time that he cannot analyze.
The song ends.
But no one applauds immediately.
Everyone is held by a melody… as if it spoke everything that had gone unsaid for two years.
Mimi bows lightly and whispers into the microphone:
"This song… is for our friends.
And for everyone who has kept a voice… inside their heart."
Then she looks at Yamato.
And whispers in a voice only he can hear:
"And for you… as well."
Backstage: When the Melody Falls Silent… and the Heart Begins to Speak
The song ended.
Mimi stepped behind the curtain, the light behind her forming a halo on her shoulders—as if the stage itself did not want to let her go.
The applause was still roaring,
but she laughed softly, finally breathing after three long years of silence.
She stood beside the event organizer, thanking him for the invitation as if she hadn't just stirred the hearts of an entire hall. She laughed and said:
"Was the microphone tone calculated? Because I felt like it gave me a little extra magic!"
Then she glanced down, tugging shyly at the hem of her dress:
"And if I had known the lights were this strong… I would've chosen shoes that were… less shiny!"
The man laughed and was about to reply—
but something suddenly changed in her eyes.
She felt it before she saw it.
As if her heart had sensed it.
Yamato…
He stood only a few steps away—neither approaching nor retreating.
His face was calm… but his eyes?
They burned.
Their gazes met.
She smiled—the smile that only Mimi Tachikawa could give:
a smile carrying all the distance, all the reunion, and all the words left unspoken.
She whispered, in a voice like a breeze:
"Yamato…"
It was a name,
and a melody…
and a tremor in her chest.
He took a step closer.
Then another.
She hesitated, raised her hand to fix a strand of her honey-colored hair, then…
laughed softly and said:
"Was I… good? Or did I ruin your melody?
Because I forgot the beginning of the verse, and I trembled in the middle…
a—and I was looking at you almost the whole time, which is totally unprofessional, right?"
Yamato didn't answer.
He moved closer.
His hand lifted slowly,
as if drawn from an old memory,
trying to touch the waist of a moment that never quite became real.
But…
He stopped.
The light reflected on something in his hand:
a simple, small, cold ring.
A vow never spoken aloud.
A promise still suspended between him and Sora.
He lowered his hand slowly, as though the air itself had grown heavier than it should be.
Mimi looked at him…
then smiled.
A mature, gentle, beautiful smile.
"It's okay…"
She said it as if she were saying: I understand.
"I've changed too, you know. I'm not that girl anymore who cries when she can't find her favorite ice-cream flavor…"
Then she blinked and smiled again—this time more naturally:
"Well… maybe I still cry… but quietly! And with a sad soundtrack playing in the background."
They fell silent.
The silence between them was heavy… yet warm.
Before turning to leave, she whispered to him:
"Sora is lucky…
and you… you were always my favorite music, even when I thought I had forgotten you."
She took a step… then suddenly turned back and pointed at him playfully, trying to sound light:
"But if you play it again… without going off-key, please! I'll send you an official review."
And she walked away.
She left behind the faint trace of her perfume,
and the noise of a heart that still loved… in silence.
When a Flower Returns… She Resembles No One But Herself
At the end of the concert, when the lights dimmed and the applause faded, Mimi slipped backstage.
She laughed softly with one of the organizers, trying to remove the metal hair clip from her light honey-colored hair, saying:
"This clip—I swear—it wants to migrate to Tokyo all by itself!"
She laughed… but inside, she was trembling in silence.
Suddenly—
"Mimi!!"
Joe's voice burst out like a memory exploding.
Everyone turned.
Taichi, Sora, Koushiro, Kari, Takeru, Ken, Yolei, Daisuke…
faces from the past—time pausing with them for a single heartbeat.
And Mimi?
She stood there in a white dress flowing like a breeze,
honey-colored hair glowing beneath the dim light,
and eyes holding both the light of her journey… and the shadows of all the songs she never sang for someone.
Kari was the first to break the stillness.
She ran toward her as if running back to her childhood.
"Miiiiimiiiii!!!"
She jumped into her arms, and Mimi laughed as she swayed under the hug:
"I've officially become a pillow for every kind soul!"
Everyone laughed.
But in the corner…
Yamato stood.
His eyes were on Mimi alone.
She looked at everyone…
but he saw her as if she were looking only at him.
His feelings had no voice—
yet they roared.
Takeru quietly stepped closer to him and suddenly reached out…
grasped his hand tightly, like someone who understood a battle no one else could see.
Yamato looked at him, and Takeru smiled with a small wink, as if to say:
"I'm with you… even when you stay silent."
Sora stood beside him, smiling a neutral smile.
Her friend had returned… and his voice had trembled.
She was hearing the silence more than any noise.
⸻
Taichi stepped closer to Mimi:
"Your Highness… you turned the whole stage upside down."
Mimi blinked and raised an eyebrow.
"Me? I'm just a wildflower that lost her way to the garden."
Then her eyes met Yamato's.
One second.
No more.
But it was enough to rearrange the universe.
⸻
Koushiro stepped forward and asked:
"How was America?"
Mimi nodded thoughtfully.
"Loud… and fast.
I learned there how to sing for the sidewalks… and cry behind a skyscraper."
Then she looked at everyone and said:
"But I didn't come back because I was finished.
I came back… because I don't want to leave anymore."
⸻
Sora approached softly:
"I'm happy you're back, Mimi…"
Mimi answered with a warm smile:
"And I'm happy I found you… still here."
⸻
She paused, as if breathing in the memory.
Then, in a light tone:
"In two days… I have a small performance at the new music institute.
If you come… I'd be more than happy."
⸻
She turned to leave, waving her hand—
But in the very moment she turned away, Yamato heard himself speak, without thinking.
He said softly, without looking at her directly:
"Your voice… there's something in it… I don't know—
it feels like an old chapter of me."
She looked at him with a side smile and replied calmly:
"Maybe… because some voices don't come from the vocal cords…
but from a much deeper place."
⸻
Then she closed her eyes for a moment, as if listening to her heartbeat, and added lightly:
"Or maybe New York gave me a melody I was searching for…
and I forgot that you were part of it