Title: Sporalysis

Disclaimer: Naddah is mine. Kay? You can have Aya too. She's boring.

Note: Don't you hate it when things sound SO much better in your head?

-Again, things I know I didn't get right so stfu- How Japanese schools function… And um, that's it.

I also know that their character is a little off, and I'll try to fix that in the following chapters… Hopefully you guys will like where it leads. It's kind of a lame idea, but overall, it is kind of original * trying to make self feel better *  :

-Changed Veemon's character… It was bothering me too. X.x;; - so obviously, comments help. ^_^; OKAY I SHUT UP NOW!

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"Yo! Davis!" a very familiar and strangely excited blonde haired teenager made his way hastily to the injured soccer player's side. "Hey man, how's the arm?" he asked from the corner of a smile, and doing as he usually did, allowed no time for his friend to answer. "Sooo, Davis… Buddy… Pal… AMIGO… Did you do your science homework?"

Davis shot a glance at the golden crowned T.K. and let a smile grasp hold of his lips as well. "Give me a break, dude. You're kidding me right? I'm the one that's always asking you this question."

"Ah, yeah I know, that's why you owe me. I left the apartment early so I could catch you on the way to school. You better have it, or you're in for a royal ass kicking." T.K. swung a light punch into Davis's gut, making the boy flinch back a few steps with a chuckle.

The crippled teenager pushed his friend away with his strong arm, and continued to walk down the sidewalk to his high school. "What the heck is so important that you missed out on doing a worksheet on cell division? I mean, that stuff is great. Hell, I took two hours out of my life to do it." Davis trailed a hand through his hair as the last words slipped out of his mouth. "Then again, I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?"

The pair came to a stop at a street junction and stood in anticipation for a red light that would allow their passing. "Haha, damn right my friend. Nobody in their right mind would want to make out with a kid that has a broken arm." T.K. caught the strange chocolate glare he was receiving from Davis and channeled it into a hearty laugh. "Take that Mr. Soccer Man! Kari and I got a little close last night, so that's even more of a reason to let me copy off your homework!"

"I think not!" Davis growled between jealous giggles. "But, eh, I do owe you… I'm over Kari anyways. I think Aya has a thing for me, or at least more of a thing that Kari ever had."

"Aya's that girl that you're always hanging out with during lunch, right?" The junction lights turned red, and the friends crossed the street to the sidewalk that was cast before the huge high school.

Davis nodded. He couldn't help but blush at the fact that there was perhaps something brewing between the two of them, but then that nagging, killing, mysterious attacker stabbed his flatter away. It never failed to do so, and it never failed to leave a throbbing carcass of an infamous "splitting headache." 

The boy shook his head and released his left shoulder from a book bag strap. Bringing his body to a stop, he unzipped the bag and rummaged through the contents. Finally he pulled out a crumpled worksheet and handed it to T.K. "Just give it back to me before class starts. I think I'm just going to walk around town for a few more minutes."

T.K. nodded slightly, the smile that had been on his face for nearly fifteen minutes seemed to disappear. "Sure. Thanks man, I'll see you third period…" The boy ran the rest of the way to the high school and found his way to Kari like a magnet. Again the golden boy's face was shining like the sun again.

Davis watched on with a blank stare, his body mounted to the sidewalk while contemplating what was conflicting within him. The mystery just seemed to hand him more knives, and it was getting to the point that he had to shove the objects into his own sides in order to carry some more.

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Ken was getting to the point that he didn't even understand why he went to school anymore. Or at least why he didn't bring a pillow. The hour hand on his watch had just reached that sublime limbo between the seven and eight, and already he had the teacher's voice tuned out. The idiots don't even know what they're talking about anyway. Ken's mind hissed as he lowered his head into the pillow of his arms.

Sleep was only easy to obtain during school, the dark-haired boy had figured out. At home, there was nothing but nightmares. At school, his dreams were filled with nothing. In fact, there were no dreams. All there was were just clean, white, four-walled rooms where nothing could get in or get out, and all around was a silence that needed no comfort in order to be reached.

So there was a reason to attend the inane place of teaching after all…

With eyelids closed, the genius flew off to slumber, and subconsciously allowed a gateway for an old rival to be opened once again.

---

"Mr. Motomiya… Please explain to me why you are late." The very vibration of the science teacher's voice sent the whole class's eyes to the front of the room. T.K. saw his friend and mouthed, 'I tried to say something!'

Davis pulled the goggles off of his head and folded them between his palms. "Sorry sir, I can't." After his short explanation he attempted to move his way to his seat, but was stopped in his tracks by that same deep voice.

"Motomiya, if you don't have a reason, then you can get the hell out of my classroom. You missed half the class, so why not miss all of it?"

"Good point, sir. I'll see you tomorrow." The goggle boy bowed his head and turned back out the door. Not even a smile tickled his lips as he left the room filled with giggling peers. His mind was too busy with the countless attempts of trying to get a hold of what was happening within him.

            "It was a bad idea," Davis whispered to himself, his pace quickening as he treaded down the school hallway. He pressed out an aggravated growl as he slammed the double doors of the school entrance open.

Dammit Veemon! I would never lie! Ken's too stuck up to hang out with me anymore, anyway. If he doesn't want to go to the Digital World like the rest of us, then fuck him!

Two hours of his school day was dedicated to sneaking back into his apartment and doing a much-needed visit to his digimon pal. It had been a few weeks, and Davis's broken arm didn't really help with the whole transportation of himself between both of the worlds. He needed a friend to talk to, though, and Veemon was the only one he could think of that could at least listen without judging.

A pity the goggle boy's plan didn't work out as he had hoped. As soon as he stepped foot into the digital land, his pal came up to him asking a chain of melancholic questions.

You didn't need to ask so many questions, for God's Sake, Veemon. It's not like I murdered the kid. "Why wasn't Ken with you last time?" and "Is Ken really that busy?" How am I supposed to know! He doesn't even talk to me anymore! And well, you know what, I'm sorry that I have more important things to worry about then a person that can't even pick up a damn phone.

Davis had finally got sick of listening to the persistent questions Veemon was asking him, and just left the other world as abruptly as he had come in. He would have loved to talk about Ken, but it seemed that all it would have led to was more whining and repeated questions.

I just… Have things to do. I don't have time to talk to him anymore… Is that my fault? No! He knows he can come over whenever he wants! God, if he wants to hang out, all he has to do is just frickin' say something. Yeah… If he wants to do something, let it be up to him! Screw calling that selfish wreck!

It took a shower of car horns to awake the teenager from his daze. Davis looked around in confusion before he realized that he had walked into the middle of moving traffic. A scared looking fellow sat in a car nearly two feet away from the absent-minded goggle boy.

Davis tried to smile weakly and mouthed a 'sorry' to the man and ran the rest of the way across the street. The car that almost hit him skidded off, and he continued to walk on the sidewalk to his apartment, just as confused as he was before the incident happened.

"Something's pissed at me…" Davis inquired in a mutter. He made sure to keep his eyes up and his mind blank so he could at least get home with just the broken arm.

---

Ken's eyes drifted open as the bell for fifth period rang about the school. The sound was so annoying, but he had slept through four rings, much to his own surprise. He kept his head on his fleshy pillow until after the ruckus outside of his classroom dissipated into the favored silence. The teachers had finally shut up, and all that he could hear was the flipping of textbook pages from the students next to him.

The boy yawned into his arms and finally raised his head slowly to the world. Ken looked lazily at his desk. Both his large textbooks were in the corner of his desk, and the sheets of paper he had put out hours ago still sat in silence with nothing written on them. There was something missing though. It was his pencil. He looked around under his desk and in his backpack before he noticed that it was in his hand the whole time. No sooner when he realized this, he noticed that those blank pieces of paper on his desk were, in fact, not blank.

Ken squinted with tired eyes at the messy signatures placed across the white surface. "Hello Ken. Write back." He looked around at the classroom, not really comprehending who would write such a childish note to him. But, from lack of any amusement, he wrote a message back that read, "Hi."

Again, the dark-haired boy looked around in hope that the person that wrote him the note would acknowledge the fact that he was awake. It seemed, however, that the secret admirer was quick in writing a response. By the time he had turned his attention back to the note, another message was already written under his.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Ken looked at the paper, wide-eyed and frightened by the fact that he didn't even see who had written the quick appearing message. Cautiously he scribbled down a, "Who are you?" and waited for the response to come.

Like an action only found in movies, Ken's hand moved with a mind of its own and swiped crooked calligraphy underneath the conscious note. "Why it's me," his hand stopped, and Ken tried with all his might to move it on his own, but to no avail, the words kept appearing on the paper. "What, can't remember all the pain we had together? Seems like we'll be sharing some m…"

The silent boy had, for once, caused a commotion in the tiny classroom. His arm shot up from the victorious battle between himself, and a disgruntled cry shot from his mouth. Every person's head snapped to the disturbance, the source not even taking notice of those that watched on to him. Ken closed his eyes and brought his hand back down, only to bring both palms to the side of his head.

A laughing. A screaming. Insults, yelling, giggling… All swimming in his head as he looked between thick eyelashes at the paper that sat on his desk. An anguished line peeled off the side of the paper, and scratched along the surface of the desk. The pencil whereabouts had grown unknown, and Ken could do anything but care. If the instrument were gone, then maybe the yelling would stop. Maybe the insulting voice would change.

"Mr. Ichijoji, do you want to go to the nurse's office?" The teacher had crawled his way toward Ken's seat and looked at the boy with concern.

All the genius could do was nod his head, and hope for that if he went, the pain would go away.