2.
Tsurugi had left another message.
Shou blocked out the sound of his mother's voice on the other side of the door. It was always something. Food. The shower. Cleaning up the room a little. Phone calls from Tsurugi. The first three were a little necessary. The last...he could definitely do without.
Even if one of his messages had been waxing knowledge he didn't even possess. Must have been Kitajima's influence. No way Tsurugi would remember the rule of threes long enough to recite it. Not that it mattered anyway. Three years was a long time, and it wasn't like he was lacking hope anyway. He was simply doing something about it. Whatever his parents wanted to say with how much time he spent on his computer in his room. No matter what his so-called friends wanted to say, in their efforts to make him forget as well, forget like they'd forgotten, like they'd abandoned her.
Well, he wasn't going to forget. Or give up. He was going to find a way into the digital world - and then he was going to pull her back out of it.
Another battle alert. A new digimon this time. A piximon.
Are you my ticket in?
