Yu and Shinya were both morphine children when they were small. Yu was five years old and Shinya was two when their dads, Haru and Masato, adopted them.

The Izumi brothers grew up in Tokyo, in a quiet neighborhood known for its mix of old and new — where narrow streets wound between modern apartments and traditional houses. Their home was one of the oldest in the district: a large traditional-style residence with tatami floors, sliding shoji doors, and a peaceful koi pond out back.

Their fathers, Masato and Haru Izumi, built a good life together — Masato worked as an international business consultant, often traveling abroad, while Haru ran a local tea and flower shop that doubled as a neighborhood social hub. Despite their comfortable life, both parents raised Yu and Shinya with humility, discipline, and warmth. The Izumi household was known for being open — there was always food on the table for guests, and laughter echoing through the courtyard.

Yuichiro Izumi (Older Brother)

Yuichiro was curious and friendly as a child — traits he never lost. He was well-behaved and kind, but always knew the right time to be rowdy and rambunctious. In school, he was popular with most kids and had a large friend group, though the ones he spent the most time with were a brother and sister who lived nearby: Mamoru Ame and Mika.

Ame was just as outgoing as Yu, if not a little more spontaneous, while Mika was the quiet one — usually watching from the sidelines with a reserved but happy expression.

Yu and his little brother were the best of friends. He looked out for Shinya at all hours, and with help from Ame and his dads, he learned how to cook simple dishes so he could make dinner for Shinya whenever they got home before their parents. It was simple comfort food, but to Shinya, it was everything.

After the fire that tore apart the Mamoru family and sent Mika away to Osaka, Yuichiro continued to hold his head high, becoming a beacon of responsibility for his little brother. He threw himself into sports, quickly becoming one of the most well-liked members of his school’s athletics club — the kind of person others naturally gravitated toward for his warmth, spirit, and unshakable optimism.

Shinya Izumi (Younger Brother)

Shinya was too young to understand most things back then. He knew Mika and Ame, sort of, but because he was only two, he never fully grasped why they suddenly stopped visiting. It was a hard subject for Yu and their dads to explain to him.

As time went on, Shinya spent more time helping his dad, Haru, in the flower shop. He started piecing things together in quiet moments — the way Yu’s voice softened whenever Mika’s name came up, or how Haru always looked a little sad when arranging lilies.

When Shinya was ten, he finally saw them again. Mr. and Mrs. Mamoru came into the shop one afternoon, and with them was Mikaela. At first, Shinya didn’t recognize him — the boy standing there was taller, thinner, and quieter than the Mika he remembered. But after a few seconds, something clicked. He smiled and greeted him, asking how he’d been.

Mika didn’t say much. The once reserved boy looked even more withdrawn now, his eyes carrying a quiet ache. After a short while, he left with his parents.

Later, Haru gently explained that sometimes, wounds of the heart reopen when memories return. He assured Shinya that Mika didn’t hate him — he was just still healing.

That night, Shinya made a silent promise to himself:

When he saw Mika again, he would still be his friend — just like his big brother Yu had been all those years ago.

The Digital World

One afternoon, while Yuichiro was playing basketball at a nearby park, Shinya sat on a bench close by, half-watching his brother while working on homework on his tablet.

At least, he was trying to.

Out of nowhere, strange symbols and streams of code began flickering across the screen — not just static or pixel noise, but deliberate patterns, shifting and pulsing like they were alive.

“A-ani!” Shinya called out, waving frantically for his brother. Yu jogged over, towel slung over his shoulder, and leaned in to look at the tablet. The screen glitched again, then froze mid-flicker.

Concerned, they both started fiddling with it, trying to figure out what was wrong. Shinya wasn’t exactly upset that his homework had been interrupted — “Tragedy!” as he liked to joke — but his tablet did have his favorite games on it. If it broke, he’d have to ask their dad Masato for a new one, and that always made him uncomfortable.

Sure, Masato would replace any broken device for his sons in a heartbeat, but both brothers hated being seen as “the rich kids who can get whatever they want.” They’d worked hard to build their own image — friendly, helpful, down-to-earth.

After about ten minutes of poking around the settings, the glitches finally stopped. They sighed in relief. Problem solved, right?

Or so they thought.

Just as Yu turned to leave, the screen began to glow again — the same strange symbols returning, now rearranging and translating line by line into Japanese.

Their eyes widened as the words appeared, bright and sharp across the glass:

//Digital Gate: Open!//

The world around them rippled, light bending like water — and then everything went white.