Once upon a time, there was a name and there wasn't. Once upon a time, there was a child by that very name, but the name wasn't meant to stay, because the child wasn't meant to exist. It's life turned into another one's when it was still short enough not to be remembered by those involved.

That child was me. I was that child, though I don't know anything about me. I had ceased to exist before I had even lived. Was it possible to claim that life back? An empty life, a life like a blank sheet of paper, a life I could re-invent just as I pleased. A new chance. A second chance. I could be who I wanted to be.

Maybe I should be happy about it. Still: When Lilly had been invented, she had been supposed to be a replacement for Hikari Yagami. When other parents name their children, they give them an identity as their own person. I had been denied that – I had been denied that simple right that every other child takes for granted. Why should I feel happy now, that I only got what others can call their own right from the start? It's rather sad that I had to wait for twelve years till I got equal chances.

"Where should we start looking?" Eveemon asked, just when we had finished a meagre lunch (crackers and cheese) in the park.

I chewed slowly, gaining time to think about an answer. Eventually, I said: "There must be a ministry or something for adopted children." Let's take a look at this: I've spent about seven years of my life going to school day after day (minus the holidays and weekends, I mean), and I didn't know where to start looking for my biological heritage. You see: The systems works! Why hadn't anybody ever bothered to teach me where the adopted children came from? Dammit!

"Can you go to them and ask them?"

"Well... Then I would have to tell them who I am... and I'm a runaway, so they will only send me back to my adoptive parents. And that's not really what I want, is it?" I sighed and put another cracker into my mouth. That was the first meal in three days, and both my digimon and I had nearly starved. I really had to think up some way to get food on a regular basis.

After a little while, Eveemon fell asleep in a bush near the lake, and I started wandering through the park. There were children playing ball and other games, but I didn't feel like joining in. Those other people were way to careless, way too ignorant for me. I was different, after all: living all on my own on the streets as a twelve-year-old runaway, grown-up with a great responsibility on my shoulders.

Sitting down in a bench, I thought about my new existence. Not the one as a runaway, but the one as the person I had been born as. The baby I had been, the girl I had been before I had become Lilly Yagami. Did I have a normal name like Jane or Ashley? A little old-fashioned maybe like Doris? European like Ingrid or more modern like Tracy? I had always liked to read books and find out the name of new characters. Choosing names had always been one of the best parts when I had written a story. At school, we also had had that kind of exercise: Make up an example for group work. Then, I had invented a group and every member had got his or her own name.

"Hey, you!" Someone dropped onto the bench beside me.

I looked up and straight into the face of a boy of maybe fourteen or fifteen. He had a wide grin on his face, blonde (bleached) hair and hazel eyes. His face was looking normal. I mean, really normal, the kind of face you would give every person you only hear about in a story and don't have any further description of.

"Hey," I muttered, a little confused.

"I've seen you near the mall the other day. Wasn't you that girl that draw some awesome picture onto the pavement to get some money?" he asked casually as he shove a hand into the pocket of his jeans jacket.

"Yes."

Eventually, he pulled out a package of cigarettes from his pocket and offered me one. "That also helps if you're hungry."

"I don't smoke."

"I see. You haven't lived like that for very long, have you?

"How do you know?" I was a little surprised by his sudden out-of-nothing friendliness. The other street kids hadn't treated me very nicely, though I had had only little contact with them.

Before he answered, he lit himself a cigarette and inhaled deeply with a satisfied look on his face. "You'll start it, too, after a while, you'll see. There are kids, though, who are more drawn to stronger stuff, but I keep away from it. I saw what it did to my brother. When they came to get him, I swore to myself I would never touch it."

I didn't really know what he meant by "stronger" stuff, but I figured he was some kind of an expert about living as a runaway, so I thought maybe I could get one or two things from him. Especially one or two things about getting food. So, at least, one of my recent problems would be solved.

"You're not really one for talking, are you? What's your name?"

"Dunno."

"You dunno?" He laughed. "You don't know your name or you don't want to tell me? If it's the last, that's fine with me. I would be careful, too, if I were you. I could be some spy from the police or worse. Everyone calls me Fortran, by the way."

"You mean like that difficult computer language whom everyone considers to be the most complicated in the world?"

"Wow, seems as if I've picked out an expert. A pretty little girl who also knows about Fortran… I'm impressed. If you can also grow grass in your back pocket, I'd like to marry you."

"You mean grass like pot?"

He had finished smoking his cigarette and laughed heartily now. "I see. You're still a little blue-eyed around the edges. I liked the idea of the portrait on the pavement, by the way. You're talented."

I blushed and turned my head away. Fortran was strange, I decided, but there was also something about him that I liked.

"Well, if you can't tell me your name, is there anything you can tell me about you?"

"I don't know if there's anything that's important for you to know about me," I replied smartly.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen," I lied.

"I've been living on the streets since I'm twelve. My old man sometimes gets me, but he can't keep me off here for too long. Some day, I hope, he will give up entirely and let me be. What about you? Have any family?"

"Nope. I'm orphaned, I guess."

"I see. My mom's dead, too, but she never cared too much about me anyway. Was too busy with her own problems, I guess, and with my father, of course. Where did you run away from?"

"Adoptive family."

"Weren't they nice to you?"

"Not really. They have a biological daughter who is a little older than me. I was supposed to be her replacement. She once nearly died, and in case that ever happened again, they wanted to have a replacement right away. She still lives, though."

"And you don't want to live playing the second violin all your life, huh?"

"Exactly. I had an older adoptive brother, and he always blamed me for everything, so I couldn't stand it any longer one day. And here I am."

"If I had been your brother, I would have treated you much nicer."

I looked up and felt that I blushed again.

Fortran only smiled, though. "I mean, you're pretty and clever and nice, so what else can you ask out of a little sister? Anyway…" He brushed over his lips with his tongue and looked up at the sky. "What about this: Same time here tomorrow?"

I nodded and we said good-bye. See you tomorrow. Whatever it is good for.

"Lilly?" It was physically painful to hear the name of that girl, and I was tempted to hang on the phone again. "Lilly, I know it's you, isn't it?"

"Kind of not," I said.

"What do you mean?" Ken asked. "Where the hell are you? We've all been searching…"

"Stop it then! You won't find me!" I nearly screamed. Tears gathered in my eys. I didn't want to hear any of this. I didn't want to hear that people were looking for me – my adoptive family because they thought it was their duty and my friends because they cared for me. I didn't want to hear that I was missed and people were worried because of my disappearance. "I… I have Eveemon with me. We're fine."

"Lilly…"

"NO!" I shouted. I screamed. I bellowed. I wanted to be louder than him so I wouldn't hear him saying that name ever again. "Don't call me that! That's not me! That's not my name, so stop calling me that!"

"Okay," Ken said calmly. "Okay, whatever you like. But what should I call you then?"

"I don't know… I haven't found out yet. That's why I'm calling. I need you to help me find it out." I pressed the receiver hard against my ear. My hand was shaking. "I need your help finding out who I really am, Ken. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course!" He sounded as if he wanted to say: 'How can you ever doubt my loyalty? I'm your friend!'

"Thank you."

"What do you want me to do, Tiger."

"I… I want to know where I come from. I need to know who I am! My real name! My birth parents! Anything!"

"Good."

"And… Don't tell anyone that I called. Okay?"

"Okay. You're really fine?"

"Sure." I did my best to sound convincing. "I'm all right. But I need your help."

"Okay. I'll get you all the information you need. How can I reach you when I've found out?"

"I'll call again. How much time will it take you?"

"A few days maybe. It depends."

"I'll call again next week."

"Okay. Take care, Tiger."