Those are the last words I remember Papa saying to me.

   I memorized the look of his face as he said those words. Each wrinkle, each fold, the barely visible frown beneath his ratty grey mustache, the deep regret in his old, weary eyes.

   You have to go to another world, he said. You can't stay here, he said. It's for your own safety, be brave, he said.

   And like the loyal son I am, I just nodded, biting back my tears as he told me exactly how to cross the dimensional barrier, not telling him that my heart was breaking, not voicing my painful thoughts... that he was the weaker of us, the one more in need of protection.

   "You're crying," he'd said, and tenderly brushed away my tears with one red-gloved hand. "Don't worry. You'll be coming back." He made an effort to smile. The unspoken even if I won't haunted me. "Don't cry."

   I swallowed back my tears, allowing all my sorrow to settle down in the pit of my stomach. "I won't," I replied. "I won't cry. Goodbye, papa."

   He only nodded once and turned back to the Mekanorimon shell - never saying goodbye to me, the one and only son he would ever have. Some more tears entered the internal reservoir I was building.

   As he climbed into the cockpit and piloted the Mekanorimon away, I turned to the block with the nine slots, fingering the ten cards. I closed my eyes, savoring the memory of the last flight on the Mekanorimon with Papa. The wind in my hair, the scenery rushing along below us, the skies all ours...

   Never again.

   Crouching by the block, I carefully put each card into its slot. Level and type... level and type... soon, the massive gates began to open, the light from the portal almost blinding.

   The only problem was that there was no established way back from the real world. I would have to make my own.

   That, however, was the least of my worries as I stepped through the gate, casting one last glance over my shoulder at the world that had borne me and raised me. The world I was leaving behind without any idea of when I would see it again.

   Even now, I stare up at the two-tone sky, wavering images of my beloved homeworld - the digital world - superimposed over the silky black sky. And it is now that I think I understand why Papa didn't say goodbye.

   I'm not sure he would have been able to let me go if he had.

   Gennai-papa... please, don't cry for me, I'm safe. I'm breaking inside, but I'm safe. Keep yourself safe too, papa.

   When I come back... I want a father to come back to.

   "Don't cry."

   I'm such a hypocrite. I sent my son away to a strange world with strange people, strange buildings, strange sights and sounds and smells, and I told him not to cry.

   How can I expect him not to cry, when that's all I feel like doing sometimes?

   He was the only one who stayed by me after Piemon infected my body with that virus, that accursed virus that's drained my energy, aged my body, and taken my strength. I can't even lift my sword anymore, let alone fight. It's all I can do to get out of bed some days.

   Before, my dear son was always there to help me with anything I needed. Anything. He was the only one... even those who had once sworn loyalty to me shunned me after I was infected. They feared the infection would spread. They feared that their strong, capable bodies would, just like mine, be rendered feeble and weak if they stayed by me. And those who didn't fear infection, were repulsed by my rapidly-aging face.

   Only my son could still smile at me with the same love in his eyes as before. His eyes were sometimes clouded by sorrow and anger, but the love and devotion in them was unmistakable.

   What did I ever do to deserve a son like that?

   Whatever saintly acts I must have performed, I rendered them null when I sent him away. Every night, I wonder how he's faring in the real world... all alone, with no family or friends or home to call his own. 

   He's a brave boy... strong boy... he always has been... why did I send him away?

   I might as well have wrapped my heart and soul up in a neat little package and sent them instead.

   Be good, Ryou. Try not to get into too much trouble. And don't cry.

   I'll do enough crying for us both.