Chapter 3

The mirror again.

It meant a lot to him. Seeing himself, meeting his own blue-gray eyes, figuring every inch of him. That reflection before him gave him more things to contemplate.

"I am… Ken Ichijouji," he told himself. "Ken 'the rocket' Ichijouji: Soccer player extraordinaire." He smiled at that. It had a nice ring to it. "I know that much, but I need more. More, more, more…"

Mrs. Ichijouji stuck her head in the room. "Ken, honey, what are you doing?"

He didn't even bother looking at her. "Thinking," he replied simply.

"Your father and I have got some errands to run," she told him. "I wish you'd come with us. I don't like the thought of you being here alone."

"I'm fourteen," Ken insisted. "I think I can handle it."

"Well, yes, you're mature enough, but… um… I just wasn't sure, you know, with your condition…"

Ken looked at her, disappointed with that remark. "Mom, I need time to think."

"Yes," his mother agreed, "but you should also get out a little."

"I got out yesterday, just like you wanted. Davis promised me a meeting with the others too. For now, though, I need to think."

Mrs. Ichijouji sighed. "If you insist," she said reluctantly. "We may be gone an hour or more. Promise me you'll take care, Kenny."

Ken nodded.

"Goodbye…"

In a few minutes, he heard the door slam, and he knew that his parents were gone, yet he went to check just in case. Then he returned to the mirror.

"Enough of this," he muttered. "I need another method." He looked around the room, puzzled. "Hmm… I wonder…" He made his way to his parents' room. He hadn't really explored that room much since he got home. Now was the perfect opportunity. He rummaged through drawers, looked under the bed, and then came to a shelf: Lots of books, and, better yet, home videos. He smirked, grabbing each and every one of them. Then he sat down in front of the television and began to watch them, one by one.

The first few tapes were of him and his brother as little children. It shocked him to learn that his brother had been a genius. Then there was a recording of a news broadcast detailing the death of "boy genius Samuel Ichijouji". The death had been an accident, it said, then went to shots of the funeral. There he was, Ken Ichijouji, an up-close shot, holding a picture of his brother, crying.

Then there came things that completely surprised him, and he began to wonder why his parents hadn't told him those things…

Later, when his parents returned home:

Mr. Ichijouji placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Any luck with your thinking, Ken?" he inquired.

Ken was silent.

His mother came up to Ken and hugged him. "I should've known that you'd be ok."

Still the boy was silent.

"Aren't you going to say something?" his father asked.

Ken narrowed his eyes. "What kind of a genius doesn't even know who they are?" he asked angrily.

His parents exchanged nervous glances.

"I found the videos," Ken went on. "Why do you keep so many things from me? The fact that I'm practically famous is something I think I deserve to know!"

"Ken, we-" his father began.

"I've been on the news," Ken interrupted, "on commercials, I've held autograph sessions, I'm quite possibly the best kid soccer player ever; I even hold a record! I can program computers and create my own software and games, I'm a master at any and all games, namely- so the recordings said- 'Donkey Madness'. Why didn't you tell me any of that?"

Mrs. Ichijouji hung her head in shame.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Ichijouji said. "I guess… I guess we just didn't think."

"No, you didn't," Ken assured them. "Some parents you are! I actually learned from Davis, but you didn't teach me anything!"

Mrs. Ichijouji said sadly, "Ken, please. We're so sorry." She looked to her husband, teary-eyed. "We're not very good parents…"

Mr. Ichijouji nodded.

Ken just glared at them. "Get," he commanded. "I need to be alone."

They left obediently.

Ken went to his room, where he locked the door and immediately flung himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. And it was then that the stress, confusion, and unhappiness that had been building up inside him for six days finally became too strong, and he broke down.

He knew things about himself now, but it wasn't familiar to him, and, in a way, none of it seemed right. He still wondered who he was. He still questioned himself and his life; everyone and everything. Nothing was right. So many things forgotten, left behind, and he wondered if anything would ever return to him. He kept asking himself, 'Why'd this have to happen to ME?' No, nothing was right at all. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

He sobbed uncontrollably and tears soaked his pillow as he wept and wept and wept…

Sadly, Davis Motamiya pushed "Send." It was hard to send the other digidestined an e-mail about Ken's unfortunate happenings. He kept thinking back to the day before, spending time with the clueless Ken. Davis knew he had to help him. Then, he looked over his shoulder, finding DemiVeemon and Minomon asleep.

There were some things that he could bring back to Ken easily, but the digital world? And digimon? And the fact that Ken was a digidestined? There was just no way…