Disclaimer: Digimon ain't mine, sadly enough...

Author's Note: If it isn't obvious, all I've ever seen in the English dubbed version of Digimon, and so far they haven't really explained much about Mimi moving to America or how she met Michael. So this was my attempt at filling in the cracks. *-*; Oh well, C'est la vie. (After four years of French, that's like three of the ten words I can actually recall. People who speak two languages fluently have my utmost respect....)

Crossings

By: Rachel Lynn

Mimi crossed her arms over her chest as she glared out across the street. The sign was flashing walk, but she really didn't feel much like walking, thank you very much. Walking meant going forward with this. It meant accepting that this was her life now and that this was the way things were going to be from now on.

And she'd damned well had it. She was not stepping off this curb even if it meant bringing things to a screeching end right here. In fact, now that she thought about it, this was going to be her decision. Because she'd had it with this ping pong ball in the breeze business.

People were jostling her in their hurry to get to the other side of the street, but Mimi? Nope, she shook her head. She wasn't moving a blessed inch. Granted, she'd had a lot of things happen in her life before this that were out of her control, and she'd gone right along with them. In fact, when she thought about it, she handled it rather well when she'd been zapped into the Digital World. And by the time they'd come back to defeat Myotismon, she'd had this whole rolling with the punches thing down like a pro.

It was when the Dark Masters started attacking though, that things started to change in her mind a bit. Not that fighting them had much to do with crossing this stupid street, but it was there that she'd decided she wasn't going to willingly be some deity's pawn anymore. She was her own person. She had a right to choose what path she took.

And at the moment, this was not the street she wanted to cross.

If Matt or Tai were here, they'd say she was being stubborn. Sora would've looked sympathetic with concerned eyes before trying to convince her that she needed to cross the street. With his computer in hand, Izzy'd be trying to demonstrate to her the reasons it would be advantageous to cross the street in computer lingo that was way over her head. TK and Kari? They probably would be standing right next to Tai and Matt secretly wanting to cross the road with their older brothers, but not wanting to hurt her feelings at the same time. And Joe?

Joe would have crossed his hands over his chest and stood right beside her.

She took a ragged breath as she glared at the huge skyscraper in front of her. None of them were here to say those things or do those things with her though. They were all back in their own apartments, having fun. Without her. In fact, everything there was going on without her. Tai, Matt, Sora, and Izzy had already passed their high school entrance exams and they were together. Joe had passed his exams with flying colors and was probably studying for his new fancy biology classes right now as she thought about him. She hadn't even been able to be there to see his face when he looked at the roster to see his name down for the fancy medical oriented high school he'd pinned all his hopes on.

Nope. They were all back at home in Japan. They could still take the subway to Nerima and they could walk over to the park to see Tai play soccer. They could still go down the street to the store and buy themselves chocolate covered rice balls.

And as for her? Well, if she crossed this road, she could go back up to her new apartment. It would mean admitting that this was where she was supposed to be now. She could walk over to that ugly excuse for a building and acknowledge that it was now her home. And it would mean that America was her home.

Fat chance. She snorted as angry tears gathered in her eyes. Home? This pitiful excuse for a city? This place where she didn't know a single solitary soul? She'd rather die first, she decided. This foreign place would never be home.

The sign turned to walk again, but she ignored it. The people jostled by again, and this time she could hear them yelling at her as they shoved her aside in order to get by. Of course, she didn't understand a blessed word they were saying. In this "international" city, it seemed, the only people who spoke her language were the people that her father worked for, and unfortunately, none of them seemed to have any kids her age. In fact, most of them didn't even have wives.

She ground her teeth together as she glared. Her face would probably freeze this way, it was either that or she was going to get a lot of wrinkles, standing her squinting in the smoggy sunlight as she glared across the street. That didn't mean she was going to go though. Going meant going to her new high school tomorrow. And at the moment, that was a punishment worse then death and definitely worth a couple wrinkles and a sunburn.

She'd seen what this "high school" looked like. It was an old broken down building that they'd used to cram as many kids as they could into. She'd even taken a tour of their computer room. Izzy would have been horrified. She may not have known a lot about computers, but she knew enough to know that those had to be at least a decade old.

And she was supposed to willingly go to this place? She was supposed to calmly walk into this decrepit high school, go to classes where the teachers spoke nothing but English, and eat lunch with thousands of English speaking kids she didn't know? Like hell! She was staying right here on this stupid curb!

Her parents had thought this was such a great idea, this moving to New York City. But had they asked her? Had they taken the time to see how she might have felt about moving thousands of miles away from the only place she'd ever known? The only place she'd ever call home?

No. No they hadn't asked her. Her parents had just assumed everything would be alright as they'd casually and carelessly ripped her world to shreds.

"Just think of all the designer shops!" had been her mother's enthusiastic response.

"I can't believe I got this big a promotion this early in my career!" had been her father's star struck, dazed answer to the news.

But her? Sure, America had been great. For about the first three days.

Seeing all the shops had been exciting up until the point where she realized that her friends weren't there to share it. The new designer dress she'd gotten? Big deal. The only people her to see it were the millions of Americans she didn't know.

Tai hadn't been there to say "what new dress? Aren't they all the same?" And Matt hadn't been there to scoff and call her a little rich girl. Sora hadn't been there to hit Matt for her when the blonde teased her. And Izzy hadn't been there cheerfully ignoring the dress altogether as he typed away on his computer. TK hadn't been there to ask Sora why girls got so worried about dresses, and Kari hadn't been there beside him telling her that the dress looked pretty. And Joe. Joe wasn't there to blush when she asked him what he thought of it. And she wasn't there to listen to him try and stammer out a compliment.

What fun was it to see the Statue of Liberty or the World Trade Building if they weren't there with her? What was the point in seeing the city if the only people she could share it with were her parents? And just what good was it telling them when they were so wrapped up in the move and the idea of being in America themselves, that they only absently patted her on the head saying "that's nice sweetie"?

She wanted to go home. To Japan. More than anything she wanted to go back to where everything was familiar and friendly looking. And this place? New York City? She didn't fit here. And she sure as hell didn't ever want to. She hated this grimy city where people bustled by, caught up in their own little worlds. All those Americans who were, even now, shoving rudely past her in their attempts to rush to the other side of that stupid street; she hated them, all those people who spoke really fast garbled English at her. The ones who got impatient and looked at their watches as she tried to remember what the right words to say were and what order they had to go in. There was one English word though that she could recall with great clarity as the sign flipped to walk for the fourth time. Lonely.

Even in the digital world, she hadn't truly been alone. She'd had the rest of the kids. And Palmon. She sniffed and knuckled her teary eyes at the thought of her old digimon friend. If Palmon were here with her, this wouldn't be so hard. She wouldn't feel so out of place or so friendless. At least in the Digiworld, she'd been able to understand what the digimon were saying to her.

*Beep* She blinked as the sound hit her ears. For some reason, the beep sounded familiar, but she couldn't place the why or the how. *Beep* It was coming from something close, so she wiped her tears again and glanced curiously around. *Beep* As long as she didn't have to cross the street, she figured, it wouldn't hurt to investigate a bit. *Beep* After all, it did sound an awful lot like a digivice. *Beep*

She jerked her head up at that thought and then scrambled madly for the latch on her purse. Of course it was a digivice! It was her digivice that was beeping. Yanking the tiny gadget out of her purse she blinked at it in the sunlight as it beeped at her one more time. There was a tiny red dot on the screen, indicating her position. And then there was another dot ahead of her and to the left a bit that was blinking green and moving slowly away.

What if it was Palmon? The thought jumped into her head, and she almost ran across the street as the sign flashed "don't walk". The time it took to wait though, was just enough time for her to wonder on her initial conclusion though. Why would Palmon be in New York? For that matter, why would she even be in the real world?

She stared hard across the street. That would be the way she'd have to go if she wanted to find out what was going on. But if she went, it would also mean accepting this new...well…destiny, for lack of a better word. And that wasn't something she thought she was ready to do. But still, if she didn't go, and it was Palmon or something related to her digital friend...

She drew a deep breath and then stepped off the curb as the light flashed walk.

Three steps later, she gave up on the idea of being calm and polite and took off at a dead run. If it was Palmon, she wasn't going to waste any time now that her decision had been made. Almost before she knew it, she had reached the other curb and she swung blindly to the left.

And the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the ground tangled in someone else's arms and legs. "Itai..." She managed with a wince as she gingerly started to try and get up.

"Ow." The person beside her groaned, and she looked over to see a blonde haired kid about her age rubbing his head as she sat up. Great, another American. Just what she needed. "Someone....name....truck." Her eyebrows drew together as she tried to figure out what he'd said in that too quick sentence, but only a few words made it through to her. *Beep, Beep, Beep* She looked down at her digivice to see that the two dots were side by side now, and ignoring the boy, she scrambled to her feet and looked wildly around.

Nothing. No one.

"Palmon?!" She yelled as the kid looked up at her in disbelief. She ignored him. It didn't matter if she looked like a complete fool. She wanted to see her friend. Heck, she'd be willing to see *any* friend at the moment. "Palmon where are you?" She tried again, but still, no one returned her call. "I wanna go home!" She wailed finally as she slid to the ground. Sure, it sounded pathetic. But who cared? She was wailing in Japanese. No one understood her, and even if they did, she doubted anyone in this stupid city would care.

"You speak Japanese." She swung her head up abruptly at the sound of the badly mangled Japanese words. The only person beside her now, was the blonde kid she'd run into.

"Did you just say something?" She asked suspiciously. He looked slightly confused for a moment.

"Slow." He returned as he looked directly at her and spoke.

"You know Japanese?" Her face lit up with just a tiny bit of hope. "You speak Japanese? I can't believe this! I thought no one in this stupid city knew my language!" She grinned at him as his brows furrowed.

"I was sure...meant slow." He said in English, and it was Mimi's turn to frown as she tried to understand him.

"My name Mimi." She finally said in her own badly accented English as she stuck out a hand.

"Michael." He took her hand and shook it solemnly before diving into his pocket with his other hand and pulling something out. "...you... Digiworld ...digidestined..." He added quickly. To quickly for her to pick out more than a couple words of the long sentence he'd just strung out. But Digiworld? Digidestined? She'd recognized those words. And she pulled out her own digivice.

"You're digidestined, too?" They both looked from digivice to digivice and then when they finally looked up, there was a big grin playing on both their faces.

And maybe. Just maybe, Mimi thought, she might give this whole living in America thing a chance. After all, crossing the street had been the hardest part.