Chapter Text
They were going phone shopping.
It was Takuya’s mom’s idea to take the three of them shopping for essentials. Takuya was fine with this notion initially — after all, his old phone (which, definitely would’ve been outdated by now) was sold for information. It was either that or his gift for Izumi, which he still held onto throughout the “years” — a task that wasn’t impossible for him, at least. Because, he thought, realizing that shopping meant he would mostly be absorbed in his own thoughts, he really didn’t feel like five years had passed. In his mind, he held onto Izumi’s gift for six months. And that’s how much time should’ve passed. He should’ve been able to introduce Ken and Ryo to his friends and it should’ve been… Fun? He wasn’t entirely sure; he didn’t want them to think as if he was replacing them, but also, more friends equaled more opportunities for fun. Instead, it was anything other than fun. It’s been the emotion that is seeing the way his mom would look past him, never at him. It’s been the emotion that is watching Shinya act as if Takuya never came back. It’s been the emotion that is looking his dad in the eye, being unable to recognize the man at a second glance, as his jovial eyes had tired out.
It shouldn’t have been this way.
Takuya stayed towards the back of the group, just barely catching up when his lackadaisical nature caused a huge rift in their distances. The group was in Shibuya, looking for cellphones first and foremost, along side one outfit each, as all of Takuya’s clothes had been ruined due to time. And if one thing was certain about Shibuya, it was that it was busy.
Busy in a way that Takuya felt he could easily get lost in, and know it would be for the better. He ruined the sense of normalcy in the life of the people who he cared about twice — once by disappearing, the other by reappearing — and in his mind, that was a sin. And as he had to catch up so the four of them could enter a store together, he almost wondered what it would be like to run. Hide in the isles, sink into the city like a shadow sinking into the pavement at dusk. And he knew it would cause a third disturbance. He knew that. But it didn’t help but make him feel almost like he wasn’t supposed to come back. As if he should’ve stayed somewhere, on the streets that weren't Shibuya or Shinjuku, and got adopted after a radical change.
He wasn't even touching a phone when an employee came up to him.
"Need any help?" they said, their voice cold and distant. Takuya shook his head, and they shrugged and walked away, their blue ponytail swaying as they moved onto the next customer.
It wasn't until Takuya found himself enamored by the ponytail that he realized that was Kouji.
Did he… Know who I was? Takuya thought, narrowing his eyes as he picked up a random phone to pretend he needed help. If Kouji knew that was Takuya, why didn't he strike up a conversation? Ask him how he was? Which, sure, he might've been on the clock (but it was questionable why he was here and not in school), but surely he would've been interested in talking to Takuya, right?
As he clutched the Docomo phone on display, Takuya scanned the store, looking for Kouji in the midst of the rows of technology, finding him at the front talking to who Takuya assumed was a coworker. So he grabbed the phone he was holding alongside a phone that looked different and brought it up there, intending on getting Kouji to talk to him.
But once he made his way up to the front, his mom stopped him.
"Oh! If you need any help, there’s someone helping us!"
With a frown, Takuya responded in fake kindness, then proceeded to shoot the back of Kouji's head with a glare.
Of course, he should just disappear. That was the answer.
Because not even his friends wanted to talk to him.
"Kimura-san!"
Kouichi turned around, not entirely sure who from his class just called him. Normally he sat on the rooftop with Izumi during lunch, which was where he was heading towards, but he was interrupted. A girl with short red hair hid behind a textbook, making eye contact with Kouichi as she lowered the book from her face. With it no longer covering her mouth, Kouichi could see it held a smile.
"I'm sorry, I'm busy right now," he said, though to be honest, he wasn't sure if he was busy out of an obligatory habit, or because he wanted to.
"Oh, that’s alright! I just wanted to know if you wanted to study for English together — no worries if not! I just heard you’re really good at this," she said, causing Kouichi to realize she was tapping away at their English book, the subject they had a test on tomorrow.
A test neither Kouji or Izumi were ready for.
And while he could use the extra help in learning the material… Any time spent away from home was time taken away from tutoring Kouji.
"I'll let you know later, alright?" he said with a smile.
"OK! By the way, I'm Amagi Rin, just in case you've forgotten,” she said, the same initial bounciness in her voice carrying through to the end, even as she assumed she was a nobody to Kouichi.
Which, sadly, was true. He didn’t remember the name of many of his classmates, mainly because he didn’t need to. Most of the girls picked on Izumi, so he had no actual interest in them despite their interest in him. And Kouji generally wanted him home earlier than he was to take care of the house, just in case there was a chore he couldn’t preform before work. Which meant that Kouichi never considered joining a club to get to know anyone else well…
But Amagi-san, who Kouichi had no recollection of — positive or negative — felt different.
Waving a small goodbye, Kouichi took his things and made it up the stairs that led to the roof, scanning for Izumi and finding her in a fenced in corner, knees tucked into her chin. When he approached, she didn't look up, instead mouthing that he was late.
Which he was, but it really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.
"Are you ready for tomorrow's test?" Kouichi asked, trying to make small talk with her. She glared at him instead, before turning back to her initial position.
"I don't care about that."
Of course she didn't.
With an inaudible sigh, Kouichi prodded, "Takuya, right?"
"Why didn't he text us if he was back?"
"Maybe his phone died?" It was, in fact, a reasonable answer.
A reasonable answer Izumi accepted, sighing as she stretched her body out, taking up far more room than she had normally. Every time Kouichi saw her, she shrunk. Smaller and smaller until her social presence was really only known to Kouichi, in fear of a repeat of Takuya…
…In fear of growing attached.
"Listen," Kouichi started, turning to face Izumi and resting a hand on her knee, "we can see Takuya. I know Kouji wanted to wait, but what good will that do us?"
Izumi smiled; a small one that suited her. Kouichi smiled back — it was infectious, after all.
"Nah, I think I need to attempt to study for English."
"Sure, I can help."
Izumi shook her head, but the smile never faltered.
It suited her, after all.
After all that deliberation of whether he should or not, Kouichi found himself in a small little café, a plastic ice coffee cup on his right, a French pastry to his left, and a notebook resting on top of an unopened textbook directly in front of him. Amagi-san was at the counter, waiting on her drink that was infinitely more complicated than Kouichi's simple iced latte.
In the downtime, Kouichi pulled out his phone, dreading sending a text to Kouji, who was most definitely done with his first shift and was either heading home or picked up a coworker's odd shift somewhere else. And as much as Kouichi normally wanted Kouji home so he had a study partner — even if it was apparent how wide the gap between their grades were — he hoped it was the latter. Rarely was Kouji home without Kouichi there, it was nearly tradition. Kouichi had no other friends but Izumi, at least for those in his grade, and Izumi rarely wanted to hang out.
Besides, someone else had to keep the house tidy. And while Kouji very much wanted to be the one who did everything for his elder brother, Kouichi ended up doing most of the housekeeping. Which the elder twin was fine with — it just meant not really doing much in the way of social activity.
Today could be an exception. He never really had an exception before, anyway.
But as Kouichi hovered over the buttons to form a text to his brother, he felt his hands freeze, not wanting to potentially say anything that would cause upset.
Kouichi: out. home later
He stuffed his phone in his pocket. Taking a bite of his pastry, he noticed Amagi-san approach their table, holding a slice of cake in one hand and a drink in a similar cup as Kouichi's, only topped with whipped cream and some kind of syrup. She set her drink down first, then her cake before sitting down and digging through her bag for her notebook.
"God, you're a lifesaver, Kimura-san. I didn't know what I'd do — English is the one subject I don't get."
Kouichi chuckled, but the type where he drowned half of it with his drink because he didn't know what to do with his reactions. It's been ages since he hung out with someone outside of his immediate circle. Group projects were always with Izumi and the only classmate's number he had was Izumi's.
"You don't… have to use my last name," he said, noting that his phone buzzed. Out of reflex, he checked it and sighed.
Kouji: I'm free - I could hang out with u if u want
Closing his phone with far more force than he intended to, Amagi-san tilted her head, her eyes wide as she sipped from her drink.
"Everything OK?"
"Yeah, it was my brother. Nothing to worry about."
She stared at him blankly, before narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brows as if she was trying to figure something out.
"You… Have a… Brother?"
Caught off guard, Kouichi responded, his voice rising an octave. "Yeah? He's rarely in though."
There's another delay as Amagi-san furrows her brows even further, which made Kouichi try to stare at the other tables around the room, seeing the people that maybe frequented this place, before he noticed Amagi-san's face light up in the corner.
"Oh! Yeah of course Minamoto-san's your brother! Your given names begin with the same kanji, I totally knew that."
She, of course, didn't know that, from what Kouichi could tell.
The two sat in silence for a second, Kouichi mentally preparing a speech for why his last name was different from Kouji's. Because he still loved his late mom, and Kouji still wasn't able to shake off custody from their biological father; because Kouichi loved the little degrees of separation he had from his brother.
But she didn't ask that. Instead she opened her book, flipping through the pages before landing on the page that contained the material on the test. She looked up at Kouichi, a smile planted on her face that disappeared as she had a bite of cake and Kouichi couldn't help but be taken aback for a second. A split second. A millisecond of time where he lost his composure and wondered why she wasn't begging for more info that she didn't need.
Though, he supposed, it didn't matter.
In the end, the two spent the next two hours reviewing their notes. The first couple of minutes were awkward — resulting in several unproductive comments about how hard the English language was. Which made Kouichi think that half way through, Amagi-san would give up on studying and play twenty questions in poor English practice disguise.
Much to Kouichi’s surprise, that didn’t happen. Instead, they kept going, actually making progress until two hours later — where they felt they’ve exceeded the reasonable amount of time they could make medium sized drinks last. in sync, the two stood up, returning the plates to their corresponding bins. Their hands brushed for a moment before they both pulled back, exchanging awkward glances and smiles before Kouichi felt another buzz from his phone.
Kouji: u OK?
U don't normally leave me hanging
Do I need to come get u?
Kouichi?
"Oh! Would it be cool if we exchanged numbers?" Amagi-san asked, taking out her pink phone adorned with a small figurine of something Kouichi couldn't make out.
"Sure," he said, ignoring Kouji's texts once more and inserting the number Amagi-san gave him. She asked to see to make sure he got it right, and when she did so, she made a single correction.
Amagi-san was what Kouichi had originally written, Rin-chan (ᵔᴥᵔ) was what she replaced it with.
Kouichi could only assume she had his name in there as Kou-kun or some variant.
"It's only fair, Kouichi-kun!" she said, holding up a V sign.
"Y-yeah, it's only fair."
Though he struggled to call her Rin-chan.
Takuya paced in his room — the room that had technically always been his, but now felt like it was barely even his. Ken sat at the desk, tapping away at the surface with a pen, while Ryo was curled up on Shinya’s share of the bunkbed, propped up with one elbow as he ran circles on the sheets with his index finger.
It really only felt like six months to Takuya — seven if one really wanted to stretch it — since he got dragged back into the rebuilt Digital World and met Ken and Ryo. But he couldn’t stop panicking about the time difference, about how it all felt wrong . About how it shouldn’t have been five years — about how they shouldn’t have let him stay in the Digital World for that long. They being who? Takuya didn’t know — just someone in general.
And last night was particularly bad.
“Daisuke told me that his senpai said something similar to your situation. That when their Digital World got rebuilt, time flowed parallel with our world. So maybe that’s what happened here?” Ken had said in response to Takuya’s tearfilled question of why everything advanced so far, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
At that point, Shinya had ran out — with someone at the very least, but no one Takuya knew — and it was just so obviously apparent that everything was wrong; that the Digital World he got sucked into wasn’t the same as the first one he was in.
“But —” Takuya said, cutting his own self off with his sobs “— shouldn’t… Six months…. Have passed instead?”
He noticed Ryo give an uncomfortable “smile” — the forced kind that showed he knew something he didn’t want to share — that had quickly faltered once Takuya looked at him.
He knew something.
“Ryo?” Ken noticed it too, his attention also towards the self proclaimed Tamer. And for what Takuya could only assume was pity, Ken wrapped him in an embrace.
“It’s… Well, the reason I left you, Ken.”
There’s silence, the only sound being the ticking clock hanging above the stove.
“Millenniummon just… Wrapped me in a pocket of eternity the last time I faced him… And by the time I defeated him, not much would’ve been left for me, so I chose to start over in a new world.
“It’s not your fault, Takuya, it’s my fault.”
And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to blame anyone other than himself for being so careless.
Takuya stopped pacing and moved over to the bed where Ryo was laying, sitting at the very edge. He hunched forward, bringing his legs up and letting his feet rest on the bedframe, twiddling with his thumbs as his mind floated to other topics.
They were supposed to be talking about Millenniummon, but Takuya was very much not into it.
He looked directly at Wormmon, who was lying on the desk directly next to Ken, asleep. Wormmon, who he met before he even ran into Ken or Ryo. The one who he saved from a Nanomon who was desperately trying to get rich quick off of a scam an entire world fell for. And that lead him to Ken and a Ryo, which caused him to realize there was more going on in the Digital World that he had left than he realized. Which was when he should’ve quit, Takuya realized in hindsight, because the initial mystery he wanted to uncover was solved. But his own want to help Ken out — which, the want to help ironically developed because of the Digital World trip prior, otherwise he would’ve left — caused him to stay in the web that was the Digital World’s messed up time sphere.
“Takuya?” Ken asked, to which Takuya shook his head.
It really was… All his own fault, huh.
“Takuya,” Ken said again, this time with more force.
Only his eyes looked up as he stared Ken in the face, sighing as he noticed that Ken looked concerned .
“I’m fine.”
“That’s a lie,” Ryo piped in.
“I said I’m fine,” Takuya said, emphasizing a lie because he didn’t want to bother anyone.
“Yeah that sounds like even more of a lie,” Ryo said with a sigh. “Maybe we should take a break?”
“Didn’t we pass by a cafe earlier?” Ken asked, the words sounding mostly hollow to Takuya. “Maybe we should go out again.”
Which wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, actually. Especially considering the cold shoulder he got from Shinya all last night. He was coming home soon enough, assuming he wasn’t involved in any afterschool clubs, and they were… Technically in Shinya’s room, even if they shared it. Because it wasn’t really shared anymore.
It was more like Takuya was borrowing it.
Kouichi sat at the local park, regretting not bringing even the lightest jacket with him. The park bench he chose was flanked by two trees, both swaying in the wind that attacked Kouichi’s back. It was cold to say the least, as expected of November, but at least earlier his blazer on top of his sweater was enough to shut out the wind.
Nothing was protecting his hands that were out and texting Junpei.
Kouichi: when r u off? curious bout smthing
Junpei: 23rd! i think your free too?
Kouichi: oooh yeah, the teacher said smthing about that
Junpei: would Kouji have off? we could see Takuya that day, its a week from now
Kouichi: idk, he works nonstop, i could ask him?
He didn’t want to ask him.
Junpei: yeah! that would be great! maybe we could all hang out again on the 23rd, like old times!
Like old times…
Kouichi: sure
Except, that meant convincing Kouji and Izumi to go out, on top of actually communicating with Tomoki in a significant way. To be honest, the “old times” just couldn’t exist anymore. It was too dependent on one boy. One boy who they all put their faith in and lost it when he disappeared.
Their fault, really. Takuya shouldn’t have been the one to bear all of their problems. Nor should the unfortunate things that happened to him be the blame for everyone’s current life. He was a person , not an idol — not a figurative ideal of a person — and he deserved the same respect as a person would. Because that’s what he was .
He wasn’t the thing to keep Kouji and Izumi sane. He wasn’t the thing that kept Tomoki from straying down the wrong path. He wasn’t the thing that Kouichi should envy… He was him , a kid, and putting all of that weight on him would’ve made him snap sooner or later…
And if it was in the form of a planned trip to the Digital World, Kouichi couldn’t blame him.
Kouichi’s phone buzzed continuously with a phone call. The caller ID on his still open phone read “Kouji” and he sighed as he picked it up.
“Hey, are you coming home soon?” Kouji asked.
“No.”
“Oh.” Silence befell them as Kouichi tried formulating how to ask the same question he asked Junpei. If his brother was free on the 23rd. The question he didn’t want to ask.
The question Junpei wanted him to ask.
(Oh how it was so easy for Junpei to form bonds with the rest of them. In a way, he took Takuya’s place… But the bonds weren’t there. Kouichi could see him trying, but they all knew Kouji and Tomoki especially were closer to Takuya than Junpei… And that Izumi had fallen in love with Takuya.
He could never replace Takuya.)
“So then…” Kouji started, but Kouichi cut him off.
“Are you… Free on the 23rd?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Kouji responds. “I have an awkward time shift at the convenience store that day. 3pm to 8pm, I doubt I could do much. Why?”
“Oh y’know…” No, he doesn’t know. But Kouichi didn’t really want to tell him why, so he delayed. “Me and Junpei were thinking of us all hanging out… Y’know, like… Old times.”
But there’s no hesitation in Kouji’s voice. “I’m busy.”
Sighing into the phone, Kouichi responded, “I know.”
He knew that would be Kouji’s answer. Even if he wasn’t working an odd hour shift, even if he was as free as a bird, that would be his answer. Because that's who he was now. He wasn't free, he didn't want to be free. He wanted to bury himself in work until he died.
And sort of contrary to that, he wanted to bury himself in work until Kouichi noticed and saved him.
"By the way… You can order food, I'm not coming home until late."
"I can cook."
"I don't think I stocked the fridge."
At that, Kouichi raised a brow. The fridge wasn't well stocked, but it certainly wasn't barren . Kouji should’ve known that, he helped Kouichi with dinner last night.
But Kouichi was too goddamn tired to question it.
"Sure, I guess I'll order something."
Without saying goodbye, or even letting Kouji say anything else on the matter, Kouichi shut the phone. He breathed in the crisp air, remembering that he should open his phone back up to tell Junpei that Monday was a bust, at least, for getting the entire gang together. He didn't mind just hanging out with Junpei, though he wasn't sure what the two of them would do…
It wasn't like he disliked hanging out with Junpei - quite the opposite, actually. But he just wasn’t sure if he was in the mood to do so.
Especially not if Kouji was acting the way he was currently.
Speaking of which, Kouichi guessed he should go and pick up something for dinner. Something cheap, like a bento from a convenience store, so he didn't have to worry about money again.
Standing up from the bench, Kouichi stretched his arms, ready to set off on a walk. But as his eyes slowly opened after being squeezed shut, he noticed someone not all too far off in the distance who was actually recognizable to the otherwise unobservant twin. The person was short, about the same height Kouichi was when he was thirteen, flanked by two others of similar heights. The middle person — whom Kouichi was focused on — was wearing flannel. Red at that, the specific shade associated with fire. That was distinct, because he remembered when the Warrior of Fire picked it out, on an outing with the twins, saying he was particularly drawn to that article of clothing solely due to the color. Said person had never considered flannel before, opting to wear single colored jackets over single colored shirts. But this flannel held meaning. It was the perfect merger of colors, the perfect texture, so perfect the word lost all meaning to the Warrior of Fire. It was his.
And Kouichi realized just how bewildered he was staring at a group that ultimately passed by him without a second thought, but he couldn't give that group anymore space in his brain. They took up all of it, as Kouji's matter-of-fact statement of where the missing Warrior of Fire could've gone rang in Kouichi's brain.
That was Kanbara Takuya, in the flesh. That was Kanbara Takuya, the perfect illustration of what youth looked like for a group of kids that saved a world they owed nothing to.
Following their trajectory with his eyes, Kouichi started to approach. His phone was out as he started composing a text to Junpei, deciding to let the college student have his own moment with Takuya, instead of it being taken over by Kouichi.
Kouichi: nvm something came up dw bout me
go see takuya by urself
The trio ended up at a picnic table, placing their takeout boxes (which Kouichi didn't notice initially) on the table's surface, causing Kouichi to hesitate. They were enjoying something — something Kouichi assumed they didn't get to do frequently now, what with people fussing over them nonstop. Or at least Takuya. Kouichi didn't recognize the other two and apparently he wasn't alone in that. And no one seemed to have claimed those two yet… At least, not to Kouichi's knowledge. Kouji was the only one being updated on the situation it seemed, and currently he was busy being a little hypocritical about the situation. Claiming he misses Takuya and that he was excited for his return, channeling unbridled rage into pure excitement, but Kouichi could see right past him.
He could always see right past him.
For a split second, Kouichi debated turning right around. Walking away from them, heading towards the convenience store and then to his apartment, content to pretend today had never happened but act it did when Junpei asked why he so suddenly canceled.
But for some reason, he approached. Perhaps because he wanted to spite his brother. Because he didn't want to lie to Junpei — the only one of them who didn't deserve to be lied to.
Because Kouichi trusted Takuya, and wanted to know if his own feelings towards his brother were justified.
As he approached the picnic table, one of the two that Kouichi didn't know stared at him, his green eyes inquisitive, but not as open as the word implied. They were narrowed, if only slightly, before they ultimately turned away to face Takuya, engaging in the conversation once more.
But once he was directly in front of the table, all eyes were on him. As if their gaze robbed him of a breath he spoke with a lack of. "Takuya?"
And the one who held the namesake looked up, eyes narrowed as he scanned Kouichi, trying to figure out who it was time had made him lose. After all, Kouichi was in a school uniform, one of high-school designation, and not in his old burgundy long sleeve and green button up that he favored back then. His hair got longer — not to the length Kouji's ever was — grazing past his shoulder blades ever so slightly. He was older, taller in stature and his shoulders had firmed up. Not too much — his build was still relatively lanky in comparison to his far more built classmates — but far more than his twin. His eyes carried stress; the stress of taking care of Izumi and the stress of being under Kouji's orders. The last time Takuya had seen him, his eyes carried joy.
And he supposed that his voice had morphed too close to his brother's old, deeper voice, as it was the first time in Kouichi's life that he had been confused for his younger brother.
They had, after all, made it a point to never look identical.
"No, I'm Kouichi," he said, shaking his head.
Takuya's face sunk as he probably realized that was the first time he mistook them for the other. After all, Takuya had spent more time with Kouji in total — even if the younger twin had cut his hair in an act of compliance with his biological father’s wishes, Takuya would know instantly it was Kouji and not Kouichi.
But Kouichi supposed, the five years had gone and scrambled his mind, knowing it was one of the two, but couldn't discern the new differences the two had grown.
"You wanna sit?" one of Takuya’s companions asked, scooting over to make room for him. But Kouichi shook his head, realizing that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t interrupt the kid any further.
After all, he was adjusting. Kouichi would only make that worse.
"Look, I'm sorry, I don't know why I thought you were Kouji, it's just —"
"It's fine," Kouichi responded, cutting Takuya off. But he kept going.
"You're the first one of my friend's I've been in contact with."
Kouichi stopped. He knew Kouji refused to let anyone see Takuya earlier, at least, not until he got "situated;" a fancy way for Kouji to say he didn't want to see Takuya in the near future. But he figured Izumi would've disobeyed. Junpei would’ve called. Someone who wasn't directly subservient to Kouji would’ve broken his suggestion and reached out.
But then again, Kouji was Takuya's best friend.
Kouji knew him best.
“I’m sorry,” Kouichi said with a bow. “I… I gotta go — Kouji’s home waiting for me.” He wasn’t, but Takuya didn’t need to know that.
Takuya smiled and waved goodbye, the smile pitiful and showing that Takuya wasn’t okay. Kouichi could tell easily — whether it be because of an unknown (to Takuya) kinship they had gained while he went missing or what have you, Kouichi just knew .
And he felt bad that he couldn’t talk to the kid who was most likely hurting from missing so much, but something in Kouichi’s mind told him no.
Something in his mind told him to wait.
A week after arriving at the Kanbara’s residency, Takuya and Ryo were in the living room, playing a video game on a system both of them were unfamiliar with. Ken was in the kitchen with Wormmon, spending the alone time thinking. Because from what Ken could see, Shinya-san did his best to ignore Takuya’s existence.
Whenever the trio of them where in the brother’s shared room, they were all kicked out with a shrug and a pitiful sounding voice explaining he had homework to do. And in today’s case, when the trio arrived home after Shinya-kun did, the door had a keep out sign.
It almost reminded Ken of Osamu…
Almost.
Taking a quick glance at the foot of the stairs because he swore he heard movement in it’s general direction, Ken pondered the situation all three of them had found themselves in. A situation all too normal for Ryo and a situation all to foreign for Takuya and Ken. After all, it wasn’t like Ken had nothing he enjoyed in his old life… Actually, it was quite the opposite. He was the only child his parents had now, and he had already left them alone once. What happened now? Did they remember him? Did they appear on the news fortnightly, crying about how their last child disappeared without a trace once more? Did they ask Daisuke and the rest of them to find him, because that’s who found him the last time he disappeared, only for them to end up empty handed and shaking their heads.
Or did they all forget? Did they all have a life where Ken Ichijouji, their friend, never existed? Or worst yet, did he die?
Where they all mourning his death as he stood in a foreign kitchen, leaning against a counter not used to his weight, alive but unable to reach them?
“Ken-chan…” Wormmon said, sensing Ken’s emotions. And to his own name that trailed off, he so desperately wanted to say he was fine. But he wasn’t, Wormmon knew that. Ken knew that. So instead he scooped the little green critter in his arms and hugged him tight.
“I know, it’s not helping.” But he still couldn’t help but wonder what was going on back where he belonged.
“Maybe we should —” Whatever Wormmon tried to say was cut off by the sound of someone descending down the stairs.
As Ken wiped his tears, he noticed Shinya-kun resting at the foot of the stairs, staring blankly at his surroundings before pulling out his phone and heading towards the fridge. He stood directly next to Ken, who backed away out of respect once he realized this, staring him down as the cold air from the fridge made the situation extra uncomfortable.
"Quit staring at me," Shinya-kun said, turning his head away from Ken, "you're creeping me out."
And all Ken did was mumble an apology as he moved away from the kitchen entirely and towards the living room that Takuya and Ryo occupied.
Silently, he hoped the Kanbara brothers turned out nothing like himself and his own brother.