"Here, you wear my hat for a while. You need it more than I do."
- Mimi Tachikawa
Digimon Adventure 1
Jeff sat on the unfamiliar bed with his feet on a wooden floor he was sure he'd never set foot on until now. Whatever kind of sick joke of a dream this was, he couldn't make heads or tails of. He was almost afraid to stand up because something told him this was one of those nightmares. One of those where everything just looked normal. Everything would look completely normal until you tried to touch something, then it would suddenly float from your grasp. You couldn't grab anything. You could try to run to the door, but the planks beneath you would break apart and fall to the void. Even if you did make it to the door, the handle would surely vanish right before your eyes. Jeff had those nightmares every now and then and they were easily the ones he hated the most. The bad dreams he had as a child had definitely been scarier, but he would trade his current nightmares for those in a heartbeat. No matter how scary they got, there was always some sense of self control in those childhood nightmares. There was always a theoretical possibility of escaping the beast, of not failing the test, of finding a way back home after getting lost. Of course in nightmares you rarely do end up accomplishing those things, but it never really stops you from trying. There was a comfort in that. But those dreams grew fewer with age, and Jeff would find that an adult's nightmares was where the true feeling of despair lied. The adrenaline-filled hope for survival had become silent, helpless waiting. Nothing ever beckoned him to escape, because it was always made clear from the beginning that escape was never an option. It just became a matter of seeing how many doors in a never ending hallway he could open to the abyss. How many ringning telephones he could pick up, only for no one to ever answer. How long he had to wander a city all alone, knowing he would never find anyone there. How long? How long was he forced to play along until he was allowed to wake up? That was the question, and it was the truest terror.
After some time, Jeff finally mustered up the courage to stand up and have a look around. The lights were off but he could make out his surroundings well enough. The first thing he picked up on was that the bedroom's decor was undeniably feminine; lacy and pink. It was almost stereotypical in style-consistency, like something you'd find in a interior design catalogue. The amount of stuffed animals made him assume the room must belong to a little girl, but the books he found on top of the drawer looked far too difficult to read for anyone below the age of fifteen. Scratching his neck, Jeff turned around to face the bed again. It was only then that he noticed the folded pile of clothes at the foot end. It looked to be a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. On top he found a little note seemingly addressed to him;
Good morning
This is a fresh change of clothes for you
Come have breakfast!
He read the message a few times. His stomach hurt again at the mention of food. More significantly however, another memory suddenly came to mind. It wasn't anything clear - just muffled voices and shadowy shapes. But those voices, they were female, surely. He couldn't remember what they were saying or who they belonged to, but they were talking to each other. Disgruntled, Jeff rubbed his forehead. The sound of the door opening caught his attention just as he put the note back down. The warm light from outside pooled into the dim room. He looked and felt a wave of relief wash over him upon the sight of his friend. Right now, Guilmon was the only one he wanted to see. Without words, the two greeted one another with a hug. Jeff felt as if it was the first time seeing him in ages. In someway it also was, and he sensed that the Digimon felt the same. "Hey," Jeff sighed out with a smile, "you better have some idea of where we are, buddy."
