Click.
Ken Ichijoji's mother stepped out of Ken's room and quietly closed the door behind her, her face heavy with worry.
"How is Ken?" Seeing her come out, Ken's father stopped pretending to read the newspaper. Even though he knew the odds were slim, he still asked with a sliver of hope.
Ken's mother shook her head, saying nothing. She sat down on the sofa in silence, staring forward. "Someday… he'll wake up."
Ken's father took her hand. Warmth passed through their tightly clasped fingers—an unspoken promise to face everything together. The living room fell into silence, both of them weighed down by the same worry.
As Ken slept, he dreamed of the things he'd fought so hard to forget.
When he was little, he and Sam often played a game where they blew bubbles. Ken could blow them huge—so big that even Sam, the "genius" everyone praised, couldn't do it.
But everyone praised Sam anyway—his grades, his athletics, everything. Whenever Ken went out with Mom, or whenever Sam went out with Mom, the neighborhood women would gush over Sam without end:
"Sam is such a smart kid—so enviable! My child just isn't good enough. I should make them learn from Sam. What kind of parenting raises a kid this brilliant? He must've inherited his parents' best traits. What a genius."
Sam became the perfect "other people's child" in their mouths, the golden standard. Mom would get drunk on those compliments. Every time someone praised Sam, she'd go home, praise him again… and then mention Ken as an afterthought.
They were both their parents' children, yet only one of them got praised.
If the "other people's child" was outstanding, there was at least something you could argue back. But when the "genius" was your own kid, there was nothing to argue. Same parents, same education, same environment—there was no excuse Ken could use, no way to explain why he wasn't the genius too. And because the genius brother existed, Ken only looked more worthless by comparison.
Everyone praised Sam. Everyone liked Sam. Even their parents were proud of Sam.
Ken was just… the extra.
Something that could be mentioned in passing.
Other kids in the neighborhood could say, "I'm normal too," and use that as a reason they weren't exceptional. But for Ken, that kind of "reason" only made him feel even more like he didn't deserve to exist.
Sometimes, Ken thought this:
If Sam were gone… then there wouldn't be anyone to compare him to. Dad and Mom would like Ken. The neighbors would praise Ken. Then his existence would finally have value. He wouldn't just be someone tacked on at the end.
One day, while they were reading, the computer screen suddenly lit up with golden light. That computer had been bought specifically to reward Sam.
The golden light fell to the floor and condensed into a Digivice edged in gold, appearing between Sam and Ken.
But it had to be Sam's.
It came out of his computer. And Sam was so outstanding—something that legendary had to be his. Even though Ken wanted it, even though he wanted to go to that rumored Digital World, it wasn't his. Because Sam could do everything.
Sam picked it up.
Nothing happened.
In the end, Sam, disappointed, tossed it into a drawer.
After Sam left the room, Ken's curiosity won. He pulled open the drawer and took the Digivice.
The Digivice flashed—and sucked him into the computer screen.
Ken remembered that inside, he met a friend… and two Digimon partners. They played together for a long time, until evening, before he came back.
But the whole time, the back of his neck ached faintly.
And he couldn't remember who he met, what they looked like—he'd forgotten all of it.
When he returned, Sam happened to open the door.
Ken was still holding the Digivice.
Sam's expression was hidden behind his glasses, but his voice couldn't hide the panic and anger. He slapped Ken's hand, knocking the Digivice to the floor.
"Don't touch my stuff without permission."
That was the first time Sam ever exploded at Ken.
Then he said, in a hard, absolute tone—like he was talking to Ken, but even more like he was talking to himself:
"This is mine."
"I-I'm sorry!" Ken had been completely shaken by Sam's sudden rage. All he could do was apologize over and over.
"Only the lowest kind of person goes digging through someone else's desk," Sam snapped, stuffing the Digivice into the desk—
a desk that was actually Ken's.
"This is mine. It's mine!" Sam looked frantic, repeating it again and again, like he was trying to convince himself.
"Without my permission, you're never allowed to touch it. Do you understand?"
Ken, terrified by Sam's sudden outburst, could only whisper, "I'm sorry…"
"Don't bother me while I study. Get out."
Hearing that, Ken could only stand up, wronged and small, and leave.
And there was only one thought in his mind:
Sam hates me now, because I'm not a good kid. I'm the lowest kind of person. I'm so sad… because Sam has everything—everything I could never have. If he already has everything, why does he still have to take from me? That thing was mine. He already has everything—so why steal the tiny little piece that was only mine?
And again, Ken thought:
If Sam were gone, then all of it would be his. He could have what he wanted. No one would come take what belonged to him ever again.
If only Sam would disappear.
But it was just a thought. Sam was there, and he would always be there—always praised, always shining—until that day…
A car appeared out of nowhere and sent Sam flying.
Sam's glasses flew far, far away.
The brother who always smiled… really disappeared.
His photo was hung on the wall.
So many people came. Everyone lamented how a genius boy had left the world too soon.
No one noticed the grieving child in the corner.
Ken kept thinking: Was it because I wished he would disappear… that he died?
Mom and Dad lost their smiles. They cried day after day. And that only buried Ken deeper in guilt.
It's because of me.
It's because of me that they're like this.
Ken wanted to leave. But he didn't know where he could possibly go.
Then one day, while he was in Sam's room, using that computer—
an email arrived. It was addressed to him.
It said:
"Your brother's death was merely an accident. Still, I'm sure it had an enormous impact on your heart. But you can rest easy: your brother's body may have died, yet he has found true release, because his spirit has obtained eternal freedom.
"And you… you have no choice but to live a boring life in this world. In other words, you will never again obtain freedom of the spirit. Poor child, I truly pity you.
"So the conclusion is this: the world you're in now is simply not suited for you. I know a world that suits you far better. A world where your spirit can be completely liberated.
"Go ahead. Open your drawer and take a look."
Ken pulled open the drawer.
The Digivice lay there, silent and still.
Was this really Sam's?
"Use this Digivice…"
Hands trembling, Ken picked it up.
The Digivice erupted with a brilliant light—so familiar it made his breath catch. Without realizing it, he aimed the Digivice toward the computer screen.
The place he arrived at was darkness.
Even the seawater was black.
A fog hung over the surface, hiding everything in the distance.
"W-Where is this?" the child said in fear, feet backing away.
"Come," a voice called from the dark water, dripping with temptation. "Put the Digivice in. Then it will be yours. Not your brother Sam's anymore. Completely, wholly yours."
"Completely mine…" The child looked down at the Digivice flashing in his hands, hesitation on his face.
"Yes," the voice coaxed. "Completely yours. No one will steal it from you ever again. Just put it into the water—then no one will be able to take it away."
"This is my Digivice… mine alone… no one can take it…" The child's eyes hardened as he remembered the Digivice being taken from him. "No one can…"
Then he thrust the Digivice into the water.
The Digivice glowed within the dark sea—but the light grew weaker and weaker, until it vanished completely.
The water seeped into the Digivice. The silver-white body slowly turned deep black, and its shape began to change. It was no longer a hexagon—instead, it became like a cellphone with an antenna.
The child pulled the transformed Digivice back out of the water.
Staring at the black Digivice in his hands, as if infected by that darkness, the child's eyes turned into a deep, endless black as well.
"This is it… this is mine," the child said softly. "This is the Digivice that belongs to me. Only me."
In the reflection of the sea, his eyes were already black—the same color as the black water.
"Is he talking in his sleep? Is he having a nightmare?" Ken's mother said anxiously. "Sam has been gone for so many years… and just when Ken finally reached the same age Sam was back then, Ken suddenly seemed to… change. He started studying. It was like Ken came back, and I was so happy… but what did that even mean to Ken? Don't you think we should really think about that?"
Ken's father nodded, fully agreeing. "Ken has so many strengths of his own. We were just so intoxicated by being praised as 'parents of a genius' that we forgot about Ken."
"And not just Ken… did Sam really like studying that much back then? Maybe he didn't like it at all. Maybe he would've rather played more than study."
"Maybe we put too much pressure on him."
"We really weren't qualified to be parents."
"Yeah…"
The two of them turned, ashamed, and looked toward Ken, still sleeping—still not waking up.
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