"Ken, wake up already!"
"Ken, give us a chance to apologize!"
I could actually hear all of it the whole time. I just kept thinking… where did I leave my heart?
When I was little, my brother Sam and I loved blowing colorful bubbles—bigger and bigger, bigger and bigger.
Every day, I'd run out to the balcony to blow bubbles. In my hands was a cup filled with pre-mixed soapy water, and the straw at my lips had already had its tip cut just right.
Now I remember—back then, the soapy water and the straw were always prepared by Sam. Only the soapy water and straw he made could blow bubbles that got really, really huge.
Sam could do so many things… but he couldn't blow bubbles as big as mine. He told me it was because I blew them gently, so they could grow that large.
So even Sam had things he couldn't do.
But Sam is dead.
I'll never see him again. I'll never get to use the soapy water he mixed for me, or the straw he carefully cut.
Ken Ichijouji suddenly sat up, staring blankly at everything in front of him.
"Ken!"
"Ken, you're awake!"
"Who…?" But his very first words dragged his parents straight into despair. "Who are you?"
"You… don't recognize us anymore?" The two of them looked at each other, stunned.
"Did he lose his memory?"
Seeing his parents so heartbroken, Ken's eyes filled with sadness too—but he still couldn't stop himself from wondering: to them, what did he even mean?
"He doesn't recognize us at all…" Hearing his mother say that, Ken could only think: You never understood me at all, either.
"Who am I? Who am I really? What do I mean to you? Am I Ken? Or am I just… a substitute for Sam?"
Seeing Ken lying on the bed, staring at the wall with a vacant expression, his parents forced out a smile.
"It's okay. Don't push yourself," they told him softly. "Ken, as long as you're safe, that's all that matters."
"Ken… maybe, without even realizing it, we kept searching for your brother Sam's shadow in you. We're sorry. You are Ken—you've always been Ken. But we never noticed your strengths."
"Please forgive us," his mother said, crying. "I just want you to get better soon."
What are they saying…? I don't understand. I don't understand any of it. Are they… acknowledging that my existence has value?
I'm not Sam's replacement?
Am I really Ken—Ken who's allowed to exist?!
"Sam… he's already dead, isn't he?"
"He's dead. Your brother Sam is no longer in this world," his mother sobbed. "So, Ken… you just have to be yourself."
This person is crying. Why? Is she crying for me?
The one who should be crying is me. I'm Ken. Ken who has always existed. Not Sam's substitute.
Mom and Dad acknowledged me. I'm their child too—their child who can make them proud.
Ken sat there in a daze, staring at the distant high-rises. He felt like something had been left behind—something he'd been trying to remember—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.
"Ken, come eat."
Seeing him struggle to recall, his mother was still overwhelmed with grief, yet she forced a bright smile.
"It's okay," she said gently. "If you can't remember, don't make yourself."
Ken picked up the photo on the table—Sam's photo—and stared at it. Tears shimmered in his eyes.
Behind him, his mother's expression turned sorrowful.
"When Sam died… the one who was hurt the most was you, Ken," she said, wiping the tears from the corner of her eye.
After eating, Ken returned to his room and sat down in his chair. The first thing he saw was the black D-3 Digivice and the D-Terminal resting on top of the keyboard.
In that instant, the memories he'd been trying to recover came rushing back—memories soaked in grief and regret.
"Knock, knock! Ken, do you want some tea?"
No answer.
His mother opened the door—and Ken was gone again. The tray slipped from her hands and shattered across the floor.
—
In the vast, desolate Digital World, Ken wandered aimlessly, searching everywhere.
He wanted to find his closest partner—Wormmon.
Wormmon, who had always stayed by his side, never leaving him… and yet had been scolded and abused by him again and again.
Ken remembered their adventures in the Digital World. How happy he'd been when he was with Wormmon.
Wormmon had told him that the Digivice was his—that it was the first thing that truly belonged to him.
A pink beam of light shone from the D-Terminal in Ken's pocket, stopping in front of him. From it bloomed a piece of armor marked with the crest of Kindness.
Like a bud slowly opening, it unfolded in a soft pink glow—and Wormmon's figure appeared within the light.
Ken clutched Wormmon in disbelief, holding on tightly until Wormmon finally spoke in his arms.
"Ken… you finally came back to yourself."
"Wormmon…" Ken hugged Wormmon even tighter, tears pouring down—tears of emotion, and of remorse. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Wormmon."
"This is your Digi-Egg, Ken," Wormmon said, looking at the pink bud floating in the air.
"My Digi-Egg?!"
"That's right. It's yours." As Wormmon spoke, the Digi-Egg of Kindness returned to the D-Terminal once more.
Ken lifted his gaze toward the Dark Towers spread across the land.
He had built them. All of it was because of him. All of it was his sin.
Those Digimon who died… died because of him.
His head lowered, eyes overflowing with regret and tears.
"Ken, it's okay," Wormmon comforted him. "That wasn't your fault. I'll destroy all these Dark Towers with you."
"Thank you, Wormmon." Ken smiled—because he had the best friend he could ask for, a partner who would share his pain with him.
Ken and Wormmon walked through the hills toward a Dark Tower in the distance.
Before they could get close, they saw a woman approaching the tower.
"Who is that?" Ken frowned in confusion. The Digital World had never had an adult enter it before.
"Ken, quick—hide!" Wormmon whispered, pulling him behind a rock.
They watched as the woman walked up to the Dark Tower, then casually plucked a strand of hair from her head.
With a flick, the hair stiffened like wire. She pressed it lightly to the tower's surface—ripples spread out—and the hair slid into the Dark Tower with ease, sinking deeper and deeper until it disappeared completely.
"What…?" Ken stared, shocked. He knew the Dark Towers' structure better than anyone—he had built them with his own hands. Their hardness rivaled steel… yet a single strand of hair had slipped inside effortlessly. How could that not be terrifying?
"Hm?" The woman glanced toward the rock where Ken and Wormmon hid, a faint mocking smile curling on her lips.
The Dark Tower flared with a blinding white light. It began to shrink, slowly changing shape—until it became an ape-like Digimon with a cannon for its right wrist.
"It's Gorillamon!" Wormmon gasped.
Gorillamon is a power-type Digimon that possesses arm strength capable of smashing any object, and leg strength that can crush even the hardest materials underfoot. However, it can also move with unbelievable agility for its build, catching opponents off guard and taking the opportunity to attack with the energy cannon in its right hand. It finds beauty in a hit-and-run style of combat. Its finishing move is the powerful "Power Attack."
"Ken, let me digivolve!" Wormmon jumped in front of him, voice firm.
"…Yeah." Ken spoke the words he had heard so many times before—only now, they felt different. "Armor Digivolve!"
"Wormmon, Armor Digivolve—Pucchiemon!"
Pucchiemon's long ears swayed as it faced Gorillamon. Gorillamon braced its left hand under its cannon-arm and began charging energy.
Pucchiemon raised one hand, gathering a ball of pink light in front of its chest.
"Heartner Beam!"
A pink ray struck Gorillamon. Gorillamon suddenly lowered its cannon-arm, then toppled onto the ground and fell asleep on the spot.
"Love and Fire!"
A burst of flame surged from the pendant on Pucchiemon's chest, engulfing Gorillamon's entire body—yet Gorillamon lay there, still sleeping, as if it felt nothing.
The disguise on Gorillamon's surface peeled away, revealing the black substance inside. Ken recognized it immediately—material that made up the Dark Towers.
Pucchiemon increased its output. Gorillamon dissolved into data and shattered away.
—
Back home, Ken's mother covered her face and sobbed.
"This time… he might not come back."
His father tried to comfort her, voice trembling. "Don't say that. Ken will come back. He will."
Then—
Click.
They heard the sound of a door opening in the empty house.
They turned around—and Ken, who had vanished from his room, walked out into the living room.
"Ken… I thought you disappeared again…" His mother's words broke apart as she started crying all over again.
Tears slid down Ken's face before he could stop them. With a shaking voice, he called out:
"Mom…"
"What did you just say?" The two of them could hardly believe their ears.
"Mom… you called me Mom, right?"
"Mom… thank you for giving birth to me," Ken sobbed.
His mother couldn't hold back anymore—she threw her arms around him, crying tears of joy. Even his father stood to the side, wiping his eyes.
Ken looked at Sam's photo on the table, his heart overflowing.
"Sam… I can finally say it now. I'm grateful—for everything I have."
Off to the side, Wormmon quietly watched the scene of Ken reuniting with his parents, joy filling its heart.
Because Ken had finally found his true self.
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