Me: Hello Hello! I'm bored and so here I am. I haven't written a Digimon fic in a while, so here I go! For anyone who doesn't know, this is an AU, and I own nothing but the plot, which I literally dreamed up. (I love it when I can remember my dreams from the night before). If I did own Digimon, they would be more like the Doujinshi I like to read but can't seem to find much of…..

Introduction

The building was sprawling and white, and actually very lovely, with sweeping, deep emerald lawns and paths lined by huge trees, and a pond filled with leaping koi and lined with weeping willows and park benches. If it weren't for the nurses and the white robed patents and the high white brick wall that surrounded the place, you would suspect it to be more of a resort than a mental institution.

Or at least that was what Ken had thought before he had entered the door and become a prisoner there.

The fact of the matter was, the place wasn't even a real mental institution, though the majority of the patens there had, after some time in the facility, gone mad. It simply operated under that guise to avoid stirring up any human rights activists. Ken had heard a rumor that something like that had happened about twenty or so years prior.

No, this place was a place where people brought their family members who displayed signs of unusual….abilities. The place said that if they were allowed to keep them, the said persons would come out ability-less and normal. Ken called it dead.

To keep up appearances, the patents, under the close supervision of one of the many nurses, were allowed out for half an hour a day to walk the spacious lawns, and they were all timed precisely so that from morning to dusk, the lawn was never empty, and gave the appearance of a bustling, healthy center. All of the patents were drugged before they were let outside, of course. The staff couldn't risk someone trying to escape and causing a scene, now could they? From his perch on his bolted-closed window sill, Ken watched that morning's group wander aimlessly around the lawns.

The entire place permeated with despair. The treatment they received inside the white, shinny walls was nothing short of inhumane, at least how he saw it. They were kept away from all other human contact, save the doctors and nurses who came in to "interrogate" them, as he called it, and them pump them full of experimental drugs. Sometimes they took them out of their rooms and down to a room that was all steral silver to attach wires to them and…..

But of those rooms Ken had only heard stories of through the walls. To keep from going completely crazy, some of the more ingenious patents had come up with a relay system of communication.

Down on the lawn there was an old tree with a cranny, a hole in it's trunk just at Ken's eye level. Before they were scheduled to leave, they would write anything they felt like writing on scraps of paper they were given to entertain themselves with and hide it on their bodies. When they were drugged, it was enough to make them docile, but not to knock them completely through a loop. Some of them, like Ken, had built up an immunity to the drugs, but pretended to zone out a bit anyway, not wanting the doses to be raised.

Once they got outside, they would head over to the tree the moment their chaperones weren't looking and take out any slip of paper they found there and slip their own piece inside in it's place for the next person to find.

Ken turned his attention from the colorful outside world, to his own blank white existence. The room her was kept in was completely white. White bed with white sheets, white walls, ceiling and carpet, white end table, white chair in the corner. The room was completely void of decoration. Event he curtains on his window were white lace.

He was very proud to say that he hadn't cracked yet. He had not tried to use his own powers to escape. They really didn't even have any solid proof that he had any powers. But that didn't stop them from hoping. After all, Ken's brother was a celebrity, and, before his parents had decided to admit him to this hell hole, he had been following in his brother's footsteps.

After his brother died, they had brought him here, telling the many cameras that they were worried how the death of their oldest son had effected their more sensitive child. Truthfully they blamed Ken and his unusual…traits….for the accident, even though there was no logical way for that to be the case. He hadn't used his powers, but they kept looking for signs and experimenting on him. They figured that if they could cure a person with the name Ichijouji attached to it, then they wouldn't have to worry about humanitarians anymore. Ken had already decided that if he made it out of there even remotely same, much less alive, he would make sure that humanitarians would be the least of their worries.

His door opened with a click of a keycard admittance. It was his turn to go outside.

"DAISUKE! DAISUKE, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!" Miyako stomped into the back of the small shop, slamming the door open to find her cinnamon haired target laying on his back, propped against a super sized bag of dog kibble in a patch of sun, playing with three tiny kittens that were rolling and tumbling around on his stomach. A bird perched on another box in the corner squawked at her, flapping it's wings indignantly at her. She glared at it and it glared back.

"Yo, Miyako, what's up?" Daisuke asked, raising a hand to wave in greeting, but making no other move to get up and face his steaming co-worker. Her eyes swung from the bird to him and their intensity doubled.

"What's up?" she hissed, reminding the boy of the many snakes kept in the room adjacent to the one they were in. "What's up is that you are supposed to be watching the store, and yet instead of doing your job, I find you back here playing with the merchandise!" Daisuke looked down at the kittens in his lap, no longer playing , but mewing as indignantly as the bird had been squawking, their blue, green, and yellow eyes fixed unblinkingly on the intruder. Or at least, that's how they described her to Daisuke.

"Merchandise? These guys? They just wanted to play. Besides, we haven't had a customer since the boss left. If anyone came around, then I'd do my job, but until someone does, I won't have a job to do." That piece of logic delivered, Daisuke turned his attention form the girl back towards the kittens. Seeing that she had lost his attention, and lacking another reason to stay, Miyako huffed and stormed out.

"She's just worried about the boss." He told his four companions and the kittens went back to batting each other back and forth. The green eyed one, Ichigo, paused to look at him, mewing out his answer.

"Aren't you, Daisuke? You seem very relaxed about his whole thing." His bother and sister stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him also.

"Of course I'm worried." he said, looking out the window to where the cold white wall of St. Antonio's reflected sunlight with the same glare of snow, though nowhere near as pretty. "He's been gone a while now….but I've never known him to fail a mission before. And anyway, there's no point in worrying myself sick. If something happens, he'll send for us. Until then, there's nothing we can do."

"Of course not sweetie." The bird said as the kittens cheered their agreement. Daisuke continued to stare at the wall between himself and his master. He hoped this mission was a success.

Me: Ok, not the best I've ever done. I'm sorry, that was long winded and uninteresting, but I was trying to get the majority of Ken's explanations in so the rest of the story would go a little faster….so was it good or bad? Please tell me! I won't update unless I know some one likes it even a little…there won't be a point. So R&R! The pocky commands you to!