Ken felt frozen to the spot. Either this really was a dream, or he'd just been given half an answer as to what had happened. If it was the former, then no doubt he'd be waking up soon to find he was in just as much trouble as he had ever been. If it was the latter…what then?

It was all he could do to try and keep a smile on his face as Takeru stared at him inquisitively. This was torture. Any moment now Takeru would recognise him. Would he remember what had happened? Did he already?

"Poyo. Poyo poyo!" the little blob said, hopping over. Ken was about to turn tail and run - how could he face Takeru's partner after all he'd put him through - when to his astonishment, Takeru walked up to him and bowed in greeting, then stared at him expectantly.

Ken smiled nervously, not sure what to do. All he could think about was the photo from the missing persons report, and the body lying in Gennai's house.

"Hello, I'm Takeru."

It was said so kindly that all Ken could do was nod helplessly. He wanted to say something - anything, really - but the only words in his mind were: I know. I'm the reason you're here. I ruined your whole life.

And Takeru didn't seem to have recognised him, either. What had Koushiro said - that if Gennai tried to remind Takeru of who he was he got hostile? He needed to be careful then, because if he wasn't, he could set him off and-

Takeru smiled brightly. "Did you want to play?"

Ken almost gaped. His imagination had supplied plenty of potential confrontations with Takeru since his return to the real world, and this was about as far from any of them as he could get. They boy in front of him was unashamedly cheerful, without a trace of any other emotion. It was almost infectious, and Ken had to stop himself nodding. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be here. This was a place for Takeru to recover; he should leave before he made things worse...

Takeru marched over and grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. "Come on, this way!" the boy said, pointing further into the gardens. "Me and Poyomon always have fun in the orchard!"

There didn't seem to be anything for it but to follow - he was too shocked to object, or think of a way out of the situation. And although Poyomon looked at him curiously, the little digimon didn't make any protests. Ken swallowed as he was led along, wondering if that was because he didn't want to worry his partner, or if his appearance was different enough that Poyomon didn't recognise him either. He couldn't help but think it was the former.

Takeru led the way to an area which seemed to be a jumble of crumbling masonry, with trees growing here and there through the ruined stone walls. It was quite an attractive garden, he supposed, but hardly a suitable playground for a child. Not that that seemed to bother Takeru, who ran straight to the far side of the garden, balancing on a low, tumbledown wall along the way.

Although he was sure that his own change in appearance was purely an aesthetic one, the longer he watched Takeru's relentless enthusiasm, the more he began to wonder if what he was seeing was some kind of version of Takeru which had existed in the past.

It wasn't a theory which really made sense, but what about his current situation did make sense?

"Come on, come on, over here!" Takeru cried, pointing to a tree growing at a 45 degree slant out of the base of a wall. He ran over and grabbed the lower branches. "This is the easy one. It's good for starting out, but the real fun is when you get up to the top…"

As Ken watched, Takeru scaled the tree, stopping now and then to help Poyomon hop into the branches.

"Over here," Takeru called, waving with his free hand. "Come on , you've got to climb up. That's the whole game!" His face fell. "Don't you know how?"

For the longest moment, Ken said nothing. He didn't move - how could he, when his whole body had locked up? This wasn't Takeru. It was a little boy who looked like him, but the Takeru he knew-

Except he didn't know Takeru; not at all. He didn't even know the boy who had fought to protect the digital world from himself, when he had been trying to do so much harm to it. He knew an empty shell, lying on a bed. He knew a mockery of Takeru, riddled with a virus which had corrupted him so thoroughly that over a month after Gennai had given him the antivirus, he was still trapped here, with no memory of anything.

And now he was trapped here with him, it seemed. Except while Takeru remembered nothing, he remembered it all. Every evil deed, every cruel word, every bit of harm he'd caused…

"Hey," Takeru said, making him jump. Without his noticing, the boy had climbed down again and walked over. "Don't you want to play? Me and Poyomon always have fun climbing around here. Look, if you climb up that tree, you can get on the wall, and if you walk along there, you can get to the swing. It goes really high."

Ken could feel his willpower crumbling in the face of Takeru's relentless cheer. And anyway, wasn't this his chance to do something right? If Takeru was stuck here all by himself, he had to get lonely. He owed it to him, really, to offer some company for a while.

At last he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he didn't belong here; that this was Takeru's place, and if he was found here he would be thrown out. Koushiro had said that Gennai checked on Takeru from time to time, hadn't he?

Takeru didn't seem to expect a reply, anyway. He simply grinned, and beckoned Ken over to the tree.

"Come on, you go first this time!" Takeru said. "I bet you can't find all the handholds without me telling you."

"Poyo poyo!" came a cry from the tree's branches.

Takeru laughed. "Don't mind Poyomon. He can't talk either, not really. But I bet he was telling you that he found all the handholds, not me! He's pretty good, for being so small…"

When he realised that Takeru was talking for the sake of it, rather than because he was waiting for a reply, Ken started to climb. It was oddly satisfying to look around for somewhere to hold on, and to pull himself, branch by branch, away from the ground, with Poyomon cheering him on from above and Takeru advising him from below. By the time he reached the swing, he realised he was grinning.

Takeru wasn't far behind, and showed him the rest of the way to the rope swing.

"Watch this!" the blond said, and jumped from the branch with a gleeful cry. He caught the rope swing in mid-air, and crowed triumphantly as he sailed back and forth over the garden. When it came to a halt, he slid down to the ground and looked back up, beckoning for Ken to have a turn.

"Poyo," said a soft voice beside him, and he looked down into the face of Takeru's partner. "Poyo poyo ."

He swallowed heavily, wanting to apologise but not knowing where to even start.

Poyomon shook what he assumed to be its head. "Poyo. Poyo!" it chirped, nodding towards the rope swing.

"Come onnnn ," Takeru called from below. "You're taking ages! I could've climbed back up again by now." He grinned. "Bet I make it up there before you get down!" he added, and raced for the tree.

Ken stared from Poyomon to Takeru and back again. He couldn't find the words for an apology. Couldn't even come close . But right now, apparently Poyomon either didn't know who he was, or didn't mind. And maybe, against all his expectations, this was a chance for him to start over. They were both so young here - it was as though the past had been scrubbed out altogether. And he'd had enough misery to last a lifetime. So seeing as he appeared to be stuck here, where was the harm in following Takeru's lead? He certainly owed the boy something positive , at least.

Ken fixed the rope swing in his sights, and jumped.

By the time the sun began to sink towards the horizon, he'd stopped caring about anything. All the worry and fear had receded to the back of his mind, and he was happy to lose himself in the moment. It was surprisingly easy in whatever this place was. The past seemed to take on a dreamlike quality, and it was hard to think beyond the present.

The sun had started to near the horizon when Takeru stopped dead in the middle of the garden. Ken looked up, confused, and pointed at the wall in the corner, where fallen leaves and rubble formed "the perfect place for a fort", as Takeru had put it. He'd been surprised at the breadth of Takeru's imagination. Initially, he'd gone along with Takeru's suggestions because he felt that he owed it to whatever was left of him. And then, at some point during the day he'd stopped thinking about it consciously, and started havingfun . They'd communicated in gestures; whenever he'd tried to speak it felt as though the words got lost along the way. And they hadn't really needed to talk, anyway.

Now, Takeru simply shook his head slowly, as though he were confused about something. "It's going to be dark soon," he said. "Aren't you going to leave, like the others?"

Ken blinked, wondering what he meant by that . What others? He opened his mouth to ask, then sighed as he realised that he really couldn't talk. Looking up at the sky, he saw the faint pinpricks of stars in the deepening blue above. Perhaps it was for the best. He'd had one day to try and make Takeru's life better instead of worse. It was more than he had ever expected to get, and certainly more than he deserved.

Takeru was still watching him when he looked down again. He nodded, trying to keep his face cheerful: what right did he have to do anything else?

"Well, I'll see you next time," Takeru said, smiling. "Come on Poyomon. Let's go find something to eat!"

Ken stood and watched as Takeru walked back to the front door. They waved at each other - and then the other boy went inside and closed the door without even looking back. It was a strange thing to get worked up over, but Ken couldn't quite remember the last time he had felt so…excluded. It was all the more uncomfortable a feeling for the fact he knew he deserved worse.

He looked around at the darkening garden. The sun would set soon, and then what would he do? There was no obvious way to leave - and more to the point, did he want to? If he managed to wake up, it would be to something even less pleasant than his current situation, no doubt.

Phantom pain flared in his shoulder as he looked around at the garden. If it wasn't real, why did it feel so much like it was? His hands were red and sore from the bark of the trees he'd climbed, and now that he had been reminded of food the first aching pangs had begun to claw at his stomach.

He needed to find something to eat - but how? There didn't seem to be anything around besides the house, which made sense if this was a refuge tailored especially for Takeru's recovery. And he couldn't exactly knock on the door and ask to be let in for a snack. Already he was starting to worry that he'd done something wrong by staying the whole day. After all, so far everything else he'd done had made things worse.

The sun set and the garden grew dark, but not cold. It was balmy as a summer's evening, which was just as well because Ken couldn't see an alternative to sleeping outside on the ground. Exhaustion wore at him, even more pressing than his hunger. Now that he'd stopped running around, there was nothing to distract him from the fact he'd exerted himself more in the last three or four days than he had in the whole six weeks before them.

Wandering tiredly through the gardens, he found a patch of lawn which looked softer than anything else he'd seen. The grass was long and thick, and as he lay down on it, he realised it was blessedly dry. This world might have a lot of mist and cloud, but at least the ground wasn't damp. Fora while he simply lay on the ground, staring up at the stars.

His parents would be worried again. He'd promised not to be out for long, after all. And Leafmon, too. Lost and alone on the city streets. Would he ever see his partner again? It seemed unlikely. Then, too, was the fact that the others would most likely believe he had abandoned them again, or worse, betrayed them. It was especially likely if Oikawa got the seed to work.

And he was trapped here, with no way home, and no way to let anyone know what had happened.

This must be how Takeru felt, before I gave him the seed, he thought. He should hate me. Everyone should.

It was his last coherent thought before exhaustion claimed him and he slept.

He woke lying on the rock floor again; cold and uncomfortable with his arms behind his back and a deep, throbbing pain in his neck. Above him, the almost familiar constellations of the digital world shone down from above. There was no one in sight, no one to cry out to for help. He was trapped and alone within reach of an escape he couldn't use.

He tried to stand, but cramp spiked its way up his legs. Every movement made his head spin, too. The back of his neck ached with an intensity that made it hard to coordinate his body. He couldn't think straight. There was something he needed to do; somewhere he needed to be. Something…someone? It was hard to focus on anything. Hard to do anything past the pain in his neck and the inexplicable sensation that he'd made a terrible mistake.

"Help," he croaked, feeling the word scratch at his parched throat. "Someone, please , help me."

It was hopeless. The knowledge of that fact sat flatly in his mind, but he lacked the energy to do more than note it. The seed inside him was growing again - the pain and pressure in the back of his neck meant he was sure of that. Was it the reason he no longer cared? He knew what it was doing: it was changing him, but what was the point in fighting it? Why not just give in? Give up. He might as well embrace it. Embrace the thing he existed to do.

Giving up meant accepting he would never see Leafmon again. Never see his parents. Never apologise to the others for letting them down. And really, did he need to? It wasn't worth it. They'd only shun him, after all. He didn't need them. Didn't need to make nice gestures only to have them thrown back in his face.

A flicker of colour flitted through his mind. Green leaves in the sun. The sound of boyish laughter. A hand held out to him in a gesture of friendship, from the remains of a person he had hurt so much.

He screwed his eyes shut, trying not to cry tears he wouldn't be able to replace. No. It might be easier to give up, but that didn't mean it was right . He didn't want to be a monster again. He didn't want anyone else ending up like Takeru. He had to fight it, somehow, even if he felt he'd run out of strength.

But he was tired. So tired, and hungry, and thirsty. His neck throbbed, each pulse bringing with it a wave of nausea and bad memories. His body wasn't strong at all - what did he have to fight with? If Archnemon came back he'd be even more helpless than he had been before.

More than anything, he wished he could somehow go back to wherever that house was. It was selfish, and wrong, but he was past caring about that - he couldn't face the thought of lying there until either Archnemon came back for him or…or… Or until she didn't . He didn't want to lie there with the seed until it changed him. To wait and wonder if he would even notice. What if it had started already?

I don't want to be here, he thought desperately, as a wave of dizziness made the edges of the world turn black. I don't want to be here…

It was almost a relief to wake up and find himself on the hilltop once more. The sky was still dark, but the faint glimmer of an approaching dawn hinted on the horizon as he got to his feet and looked around.

The dizziness and hunger were less here - present but manageable. And he must have slept at least a little, because there was no crushing exhaustion to weigh him down.

Ken didn't linger on the hilltop. It was still freezing cold, and there was something deeply unsettling about the whole place. More than even the house, he felt as though he didn't belong there. It wasn't for him. The feeling didn't ease until he left the last of the snow behind, and made his way across the meadow to the house.

Deep down, he knew that the house and its gardens weren't made for him either. He was being selfish - he ought to leave Takeru be so the boy could recover. But where else could he go? There didn't seem to be any alternatives, and already a thick mist was descending. If he hadn't made it to the gardens already, he might have gotten lost.

It was strange, though. The skies had seemed perfectly clear, so where had the mist come from? And why was it so much thicker than the day before? The thickness of the mist made it hard to be sure where he was going in the garden; what few landmarks he recognised from the day before looked very different. There was no way he could find the pond with its bench like this - he was just as likely to fall in and drown.

Instead, he found a low wall with a flat slab atop it, and sat down to wait for daylight. Takeru had mentioned "others", hadn't he? Maybe there was someone else around; someone he could follow and ask for help. His legs ached, anyway. It was good to sit and rest. Much as he was stronger in this world, it had been a long time since he'd eaten, and he was still weary from his long convalescence.

It was a cold morning, and although a faint white circle was visible rising above the horizon somewhere beyond the mist, it didn't add much warmth. Ken wrapped his arms around himself, and huddled on the wall feeling miserable. What was he doing? What could he be thinking, coming back? For all he knew, Takeru would remember his past any day now, and then what would happen? What if he triggered some sort of recall and Takeru did turn hostile? He might be justified in taking revenge, but that wouldn't help Leafmon. He ought to get out there and give Takeru a wide margin.

"Poyo poyo?"

Ken turned on the spot, startled by the little digimon's voice. He hadn't heard the door open. Poyomon hopped over him while Takeru stood a little way behind, gaping. He didn't look unhappy, just… surprised.

Ken smiled awkwardly, and raised a hand to wave. Perhaps he should go - he'd pushed his luck enough by staying for one day, and surely Takeru didn't need him-

"Hello! You came to play again?"

Takeru's voice was excited and eager, and the boy ran over, apparently past his surprise.

"No one's ever visited twice in a row before. What shall we do today? We could climb the trees again… oh, but it all looks a bit damp for that. Well, there's plenty of other things to do. We could, um… Oh! I know! We can go look in some of the buildings. They're a bit spooky, but it's still lots of fun. Maybe we can pretend we're brave explorers…"

He wasn't sure if Takeru had always been this much of a chatterbox or if it was another side-effect of the antivirus, but he didn't have much opportunity to dwell on it. As soon as Takeru was within reach, a hand extended for him to take, and then Takeru was off, leading the way along the paths as confidently as if he did it every day. Ken frowned, reminding himself that he probably did do it every day. Takeru had been here for well over a month, after all. Plenty of time to learn his way around.

They wandered around the gardens for a while, but every time Takeru seemed to find what he was looking for, his shoulders would droop and he would explain - at length - a reason why this or that particular activity was no good. Ken worked out the pattern after the first few incidents. At any point where a normal conversation would offer an opening for the other person to talk, Takeru filled in the gap. He spoke for Poyomon and Ken as well as for himself.

It was comforting, in a way. His presence was valued, but not in a personal sense. Thanks to the absence of Takeru's memory, there didn't seem to be any real danger - as far as the other boy was concerned, he was just someone to talk at. He was there to nod and agree.

After a while of wandering around, Takeru sighed, and declared that it was too cold outside. He led the way to the front door of the house, and slipped his shoes off in the genkan. There were no slippers that Ken could see, but Takeru didn't seem to mind.

"Hey, watch this!" Takeru cried, and set off at a run along the hall before twisting his feet and skidding along the polished wooden floor. His arms pinwheeled as he neared the far wall, but there was no slowing down. He crashed straight into it and fell over, giggling.

"Now you try," he said, looking at Ken and grinning. "It's really fun! Me and Poyomon do it all the time."

"Poyo poyo!" said the little digimon, hopping onto the wood and leaping into a far smaller and more controlled slide.

Ken stared at them, watching as Poyomon hopped his way into another skid and ploughed straight into Takeru, who was just getting to his feet. The boy tried to get out of his partner's way and they both ended up in a tangle on the floor, smiling and laughing. Ken felt his heart twist in his chest. Had he ever laughed with Leafmon? How much time had he wasted?

Takeru regarded him with an open, carefree expression, waving him over. "Come on, it's fun! You gotta try it!"

Ken looked at his shoes, lined up neatly next to Takeru's. If he was going to leave, now was probably his last chance to do so easily. To extract himself from Takeru's company and stop pretending he was a friend. To stop taking advantage of Takeru's amnesia and do the right thing. To get as far away as possible, where he couldn't hurt anyone else.

Takeru grinned, and skidded towards him, coming to a halt just a few inches from the genkan. He grabbed Ken's hand and pulled him forward.

"Come on. You have to run a bit, but not too far, or you'll run out of space. We can go round the corner, too. There's lots more room there, but properly you have to slide the whole way, or you're missing out on the fun. Like this!"

Takeru let go, and took a few quick steps before launching himself into another skid. He didn't go as far this time, and slid the last part of the way as though he were wearing ice skates.

It did look fun. He'd enjoyed the day before - an unexpected glimmer of happiness which he was sure he didn't deserve, but… but Takeru was beckoning him over, calling out for him to stop taking so long and just do it . Something about the cheerful insistence wore away at his resolve, and he smiled. He hadn't done anything like this in years . Surely it couldn't hurt, just for a little while?

The first skid was much too short. He came to a halt after just a couple of feet. Takeru laughed.

"You have to go faster! You're too careful!"

The second attempt took him to the corner. He could see that the hall was L-shaped, with the longer part leading off into the house. Takeru backed right up to the wall, and set off at a run that sent him skidding all the way down to the other end. Poyomon followed, half skidding and half hopping. They turned to watch him expectantly.

Okay , he thought. I'll stick around for just a little longer. He's bound to get bored soon enough, isn't he?

The hallway stretched out in front of him, long and clear and smooth. Ken took off as fast as his somewhat short legs could manage, and skidded most of the length of the hall, leaning forward to try and go further. He overbalanced at the end, and landed on the ground in an ungraceful heap with a yelp.

Takeru immediately ran over and helped him to his feet.

"Are you okay? You were going really fast you know - that was a pretty good try! Maybe we should get some cushions if we're gonna carry on going though. I have a bruise on my arm, look. And I think Poyomon was a bit annoyed that I fell over on him. I'm sorry Poyomon! The floor's really good for skidding though, isn't it! I always play like this when it's cold outside. The cottage isn't as much fun as playing outside, but there are a few things to do. Hey, I've got an idea! I'll show you around! We can get the cushions after. Look, my room's just over here!"

Ken followed, slightly taken aback by the abrupt change in Takeru's chain of thought. He'd noticed the other boy's habit the day before to an extent, but it was still quite jarring. Everything about Takeru's attitude was in the present; in the now. If he had still harboured any doubts that the antivirus had had a serious effect on Takeru, they would have fled in face of the evidence.

Takeru led him to a smallish room with knick-knacks and toys scattered here and there. It had been tidied in the vague, imprecise sense of someone who would probably do a better job if they weren't too busy doing other things - toys and paper were in rough piles here and there, and the floor was generally clear, but nothing was especially neat .

From inside the room, it was more obvious that Takeru slept not so much in a bed as in a nest. Most likely it had been made neatly at one time, but now it was a snarl of blankets, with cushions and pillows stacked here and there.

More than anything, it was a room which demonstrated that Takeru was alone. It was a child's room - the sort of room a child might end up with without the influence of a parent to straighten out the sheets and tidy away old drawings or toys.

"Poyo," said a soft voice by his side, as Takeru grabbed a handful of the cushions from his bed.

Ken looked down to see the little digimon watching him carefully. He bit the inside of his lip. Did Poyomon want him to leave? He wouldn't blame him if he did. Takeru might not remember what had happened, but he was sure the same couldn't be said of the boy's partner.

"Here, take these!" Takeru said, apparently oblivious to the silent communication between his two companions. He thrust a pile of cushions into Ken's hands. "We'll get some more from the other rooms. Let's see how many we can find - it'll be the biggest pile ever! "

Ken nodded wordlessly, and followed Takeru back into the hallway. After dropping the cushions in a heap, he was led into a much larger room, which was so cluttered with assorted furniture and other junk that all he could do was stop and stare.

Chairs, tables and other assorted items of furniture were stacked and gathered everywhere along with a multitude of boxes, so densely that there was hardly space between them to move around. It was like nothing he had ever seen. What in any world was this place?

Takeru watched him with a curious expression on his face: mixed surprise and amusement.

"Haven't you ever seen a house before?" he asked. "It's nothing special, really. Come on, let's get those cushions."

For a moment, Ken just stared at Takeru as he ran off into the jumble of furniture. But it made sense that Takeru wouldn't think it out of the ordinary, really it did. If he had no memories, what did he have to compare it to, after all? The thought rested uneasily in his mind. How would Takeru feel about all of this if he ever managed to remember who he was?

Takeru reappeared in front of him, frowning.

"Didn't you want to play?" he asked, sagging. "Hmm, maybe you're right. I guess the skidding game is kinda boring after a while. What could we do instead? There isn't really much else around. All the fun stuff is outside, really. I hate misty days. They're no fun at all."

Ken shook his head. He swallowed, trying to find the words to explain how he felt, but it was as though there were a block. As though something somewhere had disconnected, and the words were getting lost on their way from his brain to his mouth.

Naturally, Takeru completely misinterpreted what he had been trying to say.

"You think they can be fun? Well, I never had much fun around here. It's all just musty furniture and no toys. You can't kick a ball in here or climb too far - the furniture all wobbles. Plus, it's not so exciting doing that anyway."

Ken frowned, and looked down at Poyomon anxiously. Was the little digimon going to get annoyed that he wasn't playing along? What could he do, exactly, if he wasn't able to talk and explain things? Poyomon was watching him, but there were no traces of irritation or anger on the little digimon's face. Just a calm, almost expectant look, as though he were waiting for something.

For a moment, Ken felt as though he'd failed a test. He was trying to do things right, wasn't he? What good was he then, if he couldn't solve a problem of what to do. He'd been a genius , and now he was stood there with a mind which seemed to be made of mud. He didn't know how to do this. It had been years since he'd viewed the world the way Takeru did at that moment.

Osamu had been alive.

He'd stopped playing games when his brother had died. First it had been because he was too sad; then he was just out of the habit. Studying more, and…and… and maybe it was another effect of whatever this place was, or maybe it was just that it was a bad time in his life which he'd blocked out, but his memory was hazy of that part of his life. It all blurred until his time as the Digimon Kaiser.

How did you play games? More importantly, how could he play here ? The stacks of furniture were far from secure, for one. It looked unsafe. Well, it might not be a game, but he could fix that . Takeru liked climbing, didn't he? Maybe they could arrange the furniture into an obstacle course.

He smiled, and raised his hands to indicate that he'd had an idea. Perhaps this wouldn't be so hard after all.