Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. It belongs to the lucky sod who thought up the idea before I did.

Name: Nowhere to Fall

Author: Kitai

Author's Notes: Ok, this is the very first angsty fic I've ever written. I know it's not the best. I need practice. Please, if you're going to review this, give me constructive criticism but no flames. Flames do nothing except make an author feel really miserable. And if you like it, REVIEW ANYWAY!

"That's it, Ichijouji. You've screwed up one too many times. I'm afraid I'll have to let you go." With those words my world crumbled. This had been my eighth job over the last to years. The pay had been just enough to support my family and myself and now we had nothing. Working in a low class sushi restaurant hadn't been my idea of a dream job. The dreams of my parents had been shattered when I flunked out of school in 10th grade when I was 16 and I'd been struggling with jobs and work ever since. I'd married Yolei when she fell pregnant with our daughter, Sachi, when I was 17 and she was 16. Yolei was doing two jobs just to scrape up enough to go to night school. It was her dream to become a lawyer.

When Yolei found out I'd lost my job again, she left. I came home one night and her stuff was gone along with Sachi and her belongings. All that was left of my family was a picture in a broken frame and a note saying I'd likely never see my wife or child again.

That was a month ago. I now sit here on the edge of my bed, gun in my hand. My car has been repossessed and there's an eviction notice on my apartment door. I have no money at all. The last of it I spent on this gun. I roll it over in my hands. It's loaded. The safety is off. Just a little pressure on the trigger with it pointed at my head and it'd all be over. Osamu. What would you do if you were in my shoes? I found myself thinking. I snorted. My brother wouldn't be in my shoes. He was the perfect kid. I only became intelligent because of the fucking Dark Spore. I started falling as soon as they were removed. My grades started dropping and four years later I just couldn't handle school anymore. I place the gun on the bed and put my face in my hands.

"Oh Kenny Boy. What's happened to you?" I look up, startled. No one's called me Kenny Boy since…since Sam was alive. I look around the room. I sigh. The room is empty. I was just hallucinating. I pick up the gun again. "Ken. You don't want to throw your life away." It is Sam. It has to be. It can't be anyone else. Only my brother sounded like that. "What would you know, Sam. You died at twelve. You have no idea what it's like to be an adult screw up." I look towards the mirror. It's faint, but I can just see the silhouette of my brother. "Exactly, Ken. I died at twelve. I never had a chance to live. You have that chance. You can turn your life around." I laugh ruefully. "No. I can't Osamu. My life is over. It's better to end it now."

The gun is pointed at my head. My finger is on the trigger. Just a little pressure…soon it will all be over. "Please, Ken. Don't do this. I beg you."

"You can't be there, Sam. You're dead. You're just a dream."

"Ken…"

"See you soon, brother."



Ken pulled the trigger.