Seems as though I forgot to put a disclaimer on the first few chapters of my story! Well, I think we all know that I don't own digimon, so… on with the story!

Chapter 2

The next day, things were no better. Everything was still a blur to Ken Ichijouji. He spent hours sitting alone in his room, thinking and thinking, trying desperately to remember something, anything. Anything at all.

In fact, he was in the middle of some deep thought when his mother came to him with the phone in her hand.

"Ken, honey," she said to him, "it's for you."

He looked at her, stared menacingly at this unknown woman, trying to let her know that he didn't wish to talk to her- or anybody for that matter- at the moment.

Despite her son's icy stare, Mrs. Ichijouji went on, "It's a friend of yours." She walked over his computer where, beside it, sat a picture. She picked it up. "See?" she whispered. "These are your friends."

Ken nodded. Sure, he'd seen that picture. Sure, he'd noticed it…

"It's Davis on the phone. Davis Motamiya. Ring a bell, honey?"

Ken didn't say a word. Hadn't that stupid woman figured out by now that his mind was completely blank? He doubted, often, that she could actually be his mother.

She placed a finger on the boy centered in the picture. "Davis Motamiya," she repeated. "You two are pretty close. He's one of the best friends you've got." She handed the picture to her son.

He held the picture in his hands. Such a delicate object. Perhaps this once meant something to him. Perhaps those people in the photo, his "friends", had meant something. But now? It was meaningless. He looked at the picture and at this "Davis" who had called him. "Him?" he asked. "This person is my friend? Not just him, but all of them? They're all fools. Fools!"

"Ken, how can you say that?" his mother asked him. "Davis has been very good to you, and so have the others. They're good friends and all very nice people."

"I don't know them," Ken answered. "I don't know Davis or any of these people, and you expect me to warm up to them just like that? My memory has failed me, and, obviously, so has yours. I know nothing, can't you see that? Now go. I want to be left alone. And tell 'Davis' that I have no intention of talking with him at the moment, or ever."

"Ken," Mrs. Ichijouji muttered sadly. Frowning, she left the room.

Ken, the picture in his hand, said to himself softly and through gritted teeth, "Why can't I remember? Why?" He looked at the picture again. "A collision with the ship," he whispered. "I was up on deck, three… four o'clock in the morning. That's what they told me. But what was I doing up there? Especially so early? I was…" He shut his eyes tightly, trying to remember. "I was… I was… I don't remember. But I was up there when the ship had its collision and I fell overboard. That's what the doctors said. But I don't know. I don't remember anything. Not even who I am…" He sighed, staring at the picture. "And I certainly don't remember these people!" Angrily, he threw down the picture. It crashed down to the floor, the frame shattered.

In a state of shock and disbelief, Davis Motamiya hung up the phone.

"So, how was the cruise?" DemiVeemon asked curiously from behind him. "I'll bet it was great!"

"I can't wait to see Ken again!" Minomon exclaimed excitedly

Davis sighed. "Guys, Ken is…" He stopped, biting his lip nervously. Then he continued, "There was an accident. The ship collided with something, nobody knows quite sure what. The ship got out fine, not even a scratch or dent, but the collision knocked Ken overboard, and he… well…"

"He's alive, isn't he?" Minomon asked worriedly. "Is he ok?"

"He's alive," Davis answered, "but he… kinda… Well, he lost his memory."

"Is that possible?" DemiVeemon asked.

"Well, yeah. It's called amnesia, dude. It's pretty serious too. From what his mother told me, it seems like Ken doesn't remember a thing. He doesn't know who I am. He doesn't even know himself!"

"How could you not know yourself?" DemiVeemon wondered, very puzzled.

Sadly, Davis looked to Minomon. "I'm sorry," he said, "but you can't go back. What would Ken think if he saw you? He has no knowledge or you, or DemiVeemon, or any digimon, or the digi-world. If he were to see you in the state he's in…"

"Ken doesn't remember me?" Minomon interrupted.

"Nope. I'm sorry, Minomon."

Minomon was quiet.

"I'm worried too," Davis told him. "I just hope he gets his memory back soon."

A couple of days passed.

"So," Ken said, narrowing his eyes, "this is who I am." He stood in front of a mirror, staring at his reflection. He wasn't sure whether he liked what he saw or not. "This is who I am," he repeated. "Kenneth Ichijouji. Ken Ichijouji." By looking at his reflection, he was trying to remember himself. He was searching for memories of who he was.

'I look at myself, at my reflection,' he thought, 'and what do I see?' He studied that person who stood in front of him: A strange, unknown person and an all too familiar at the same time. 'I see… someone who doesn't know anything. Someone who has no clue as to who he is; who anyone is. Someone who has lost their past, lost their heart, lost… That's it. Someone who is lost.' He let out a heavy sigh. 'Who am I? I'm Ken Ichijouji. But knowing that alone isn't enough.'

"Ken," his father called from another room, "dinner's ready."

The boy took one last look at himself before going to the kitchen. He sat down at the table, and his mother placed a plate of food in front of him. "Eat up!" she said cheerfully.

His parents sat down and began eating quietly. Dinner that evening was awkward, although that was no different from how other meals had been since the family had returned home. All of the meals were quiet, all of them awkward.

Suddenly, Ken spoke up. "Who am I?" he asked.

His parents looked at him in a strange way.

"You've told me my name," Ken went on. "I'm Ken Ichijouji. But there's got to be more to me than that. I want to get deep down inside and discover who I am. I want to remember."

Mrs. Ichijouji looked to her husband nervously.

"I don't know what to tell you, Ken," Mr. Ichijouji said. "You're a good kid, fourteen years old and going into ninth grade. Um…"

"You know," Ken's mother began, "you might be able to discover something about yourself by spending time with your friends. I know you're not comfortable with it, but I think it would be really good for you. You don't have to do it, but at least consider it for me."

Ken nodded. Then he stood. "I'm not hungry," he said, and started to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" his father asked.

"To the mirror…"

The phone was ringing. Ken threw an angry glance at it. The stupid object had interrupted his thinking.

"For you, Ken," his mother told him after she answered it. "It's Davis. Won't you talk to him? Please? I think it would do you some good."

Ken sighed with disgust. "Ok," he said reluctantly. His mother handed him the phone.

"Hello?" came an unfamiliar voice.

"Um…" Ken was quiet for a short moment. "Hi."

"Ken! This is Davis Motamiya. Listen, uh… your mom told me the other night about what happened."

All Ken could say was: "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry for you. Anyhow, I just called to see how you were."

"I'm…" Ken paused. "I'm… well… fine. That is, if you consider not being able to remember a single thing fine."

"Hey, don't be so down about it, Ken!" Davis told him optimistically. "You're gonna come out ok."

"Let's be realistic."

"No, really! I'll even help you if you want me to! We'll tackle this thing together!"

"Well…"

"Let's get together today. I'll refresh that memory of yours! What do you say?"

"I don't know you!" Ken blurted out. "And I don't trust you!"

"Aww… Ken, I only wanna help you. C'mon, don't do this again."

"Again?" Ken questioned.

"Yeah," Davis answered. "You're always so hostile when people try to help you. You never let anybody give you a hand."

"Is that right?" Ken asked.

"Well, most of the time."

Ken was silent. 'He really does know something,' he thought. 'I guess what Mom said about us being close is true. Maybe I can learn from him.'

"Hello?" Davis called. "You still there?"

"I'm here," Ken said. "What time you want to get together? And where?"

"Awesome!" Davis exclaimed. "I knew you'd come around! Tell you what. I'll make it easy for you. We'll meet at the soccer field in Tamachi, at noon. Bring a soccer ball."

"Soccer…?" Ken asked wonderingly.

"Yep! See ya later!"

"Wait!" Ken pleaded, but Davis had already hung up the phone.

"Hey there, Ken!" Davis called, waving.

The clueless teen, a soccer ball under his arm, forced himself to smile. "Hello," he said pleasantly.

"I'm glad you came, buddy! And look, we've got the place to ourselves!"

Ken dropped the soccer ball, and Davis instantly picked it up. He started bouncing it off his head and knees, kicking it around, and saying things like, "Oh yeah, I've still got it!" "Check this out, Ken!" "Am I good or what?"

"Uh… Davis, I came here to talk, not-"

"Just a sec!" Davis interrupted. He gave the ball another bounce off of his head, then caught the ball and put it under his arm. "Now, what were you saying?"

"You know," Ken said, "you're pretty good."

"Am I? I mean, of course I am!" Davis laughed, then added, "I hate admitting it, but you're better, Ken."

Ken looked at him, surprised. "Me?" he asked. "I'm better?"

"Sure! Why don't you and I play a bit? No better way to bond than a good game of soccer!"

Ken raised an eyebrow in question. "By ourselves?"

"Why not? C'mon, Ken, if you think you're ready!" With that, Davis put down the soccer ball and started running with it. "Come on, slow poke!" he called teasingly.

"Hey!" Ken exclaimed angrily, and ran after Davis.

Later…

Ken, breathing hard, sweaty, and his heart beating fast, sat down on the first row of the bleachers.

Davis sat beside him. "Give me five, rocket!" he exclaimed, reaching out his hand.

Smiling, Ken slapped it. "Good game there, Davis! But really… 'rocket'?"

"Your old nickname," Davis explained. "Ken 'the rocket' Ichijouji. You're the best at soccer, man. I always envied you."

Ken leaned back, shutting his eyes. For a while, the two of them sat there quietly, catching their breath. Eventually, Ken broke the silence, saying, "Thanks."

"For what?" Davis asked.

Ken turned to him, with a sort of wistful look on his face. "It's been five days since the accident," he said. "Ever since then, it's been so hard for me. I've done nothing but question things. I'm always thinking. I'm always searching for a memory, even the smallest thing, but I keep coming up with nothing. It never stops. I wonder things constantly. Who am I? Who's telling the truth? Who's lying to me? I sit alone in my room, thinking, thinking, thinking. It makes my head ache sometimes. Even at night, it keeps me awake. I haven't been able to get away from my thoughts."

"And you're thanking me for…?"

"For letting me escape that." Ken smiled. "For the first time in five days, I didn't care. I didn't think about this situation I'm stuck in. I could finally escape my thoughts."

Davis said, "Soccer sure is a good game, huh? It's got the power to free the human mind of thought's grasp!" He laughed, then slapped his buddy on the back. Hard.

Ken threw a glare at him. "Don't be so rough!"

Davis shrugged. "Sorry."

Ken sighed. He looked up at the sky, then around at the soccer field. "You know, I didn't think I could trust you at first."

Davis nodded. "Yeah, you kinda told me that on the phone."

"It's hard for me to tell who's real. I don't remember anything, so I know I've got to be cautious."

"It makes sense."

"But I have to thank you again. You showed me a good time, and I learned a little about myself. Thanks, Davis."

"No problem!" Davis exclaimed, winking.

"Can you tell me something else?"

"Hmm?"

"There's this picture I have… You're in it, and me too, and four others. There's a blonde boy wearing a hat-"

"TK." Davis interrupted. "Yep, it's TK Takaishi. He's a nice guy. Good at basketball too. But he's always stealing my girl away from me!"

"Who's that?" Ken questioned curiously.

"Kari Kamiya."

"Well, in the picture, he has his arm around a girl. Could that be her?"

Davis nodded. "I know what picture you're talking about. I've got a copy of that too. Yeah, that's Kari. She's so awesome!"

Ken chuckled.

Davis, his face turning red, stuttered, "H-Hey, don't l-laugh at me!"

"On to the next one then," Ken said. "There's a boy. He looks a little young."

"Cody Hida. Yeah, he's a few years younger than us. Man, that kid is too serious for his own good! Might be because he lost his father, but he's still a really good kid."

"And then there's this girl. She's hanging onto my arm, and she's got this wonderful smile on her face. She's so bright and cheery, and just beaming with happiness."

"Yolei Inoue."

"The way she was hanging onto me… Is she my girlfriend or something?" Ken asked him.

"Why? Do you want her to be?" He nudged Ken in the side, winking.

"I don't know her."

"Well, Yolei is one spunky girl. She's always optimistic, but she can be hot-headed sometimes. She's outward and isn't afraid to speak her mind. She's a year older than us."

Sadly, Ken told Davis, "None of that is familiar to me. I don't remember any of them."

Davis frowned. "Don't worry about it, Ken," he soothed, "you're gonna make it through this. I'll try to organize something for you. I'll try to get the six of us together so you can meet them. Would you like that?"

Ken stared at the ground, thinking. "I don't know," he muttered.

"They're your friends," Davis insisted. "If you wanna recover from this amnesia, I think it'd be a good thing to do."

"They'll help me?"

"Yeah," Davis answered. "That's what friends do. The six of us… We help each other when ever one's in a bind. Ok, maybe we don't always get along, but we're always there for each other. Friends look out for each other, and I promise you, Ken, we're all gonna help you as much as we can. Now, whaddya say?"

Ken gave a nod. "If you think it will help…"