Chapter Text

🌹ONE🌹

Darkness unfolded before him. The world that caught him was dark and brisk as he drowned in an empty abyss. Where was he? Each step felt like a haze— like he stood on something, but he stood on nothing at all. His feet stumbled between something and nothing, through shadows and illusions. 

He screamed. The nothingness he stood on shattered as he felt his bones crumble through the air and his lungs tighten to something so small. Like his existence was being erased, torn of the canvas and burned in the pit. 

The silence was pierced by an echo of his voice, the piercing shout as he wailed in the air that brushed his skin harshly. 

Isagi’s body echoed numb, a sore stiffness waved through his bones while a thick blanket was placed over his frame. When his eyes opened, a bright light shone in the room and a muffled groan escaped his lips. Every part of himself foreign, like a body that wasn’t his. 

His eyes were still heavy, and his sight heavy with blur that reigned. In such a short amount of time, he felt as though he lived a lifetime. 

“He’s. . . he’s awake!” 

Someone's voice rose, an unfamiliar place, strangers in the room—scribbles scratched over their faces. Messy lines Isagi’s mind couldn’t grasp, their features became corrupted and suddenly the whole world sank into a pit and Isagi was the center. His vision pigmented into an eerie green that darkened around him and suddenly, it felt as though he was pulled into a pit. 

“He is,” Someone else spoke—more soothing—acknowledging Isagi’s awakening. Isagi’s eyes glanced around the room in panic as he felt another wave of a strange rush course through his body. The scribbles stayed, haunting his sight as his world broke before him. 

ᴅᴇᴀᴅ.

ʏᴏᴜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ.

No. 

ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ.

.

.

.

Six years. 

The thought had felt like a ripple of the water right before a thunderstorm. A hurricane that blew through his memories. The idea of six years walking by and he hadn’t experienced a second of it. 

Two-thousand-one hundred-ninety-two days. 

That was a big number, large in fact. Adding on to his dismay, he couldn’t recall much of his earlier life as well. Every face he’s met till his awakening have all been scribbled patches of a sorry excuse for his memory. He called them: puzzles. 

Maybe Isagi liked solving puzzles because ever since he woke up, it wouldn’t leave him. Wherever his eyes had traveled, it followed. Each eye. Each smile. Each frown. They were scrambled puzzles that corrupted his world. 

“Yo-chan!” Isagi was too swept up in his thoughts to realize someone had walked in. When he looked up, he saw a couple hustling in. My parents. 

Isagi couldn’t recall their features, but the puzzle felt more put together on them. More safe, like a home. 

Isagi knew what home was, a place where you lived with family. And his parents had fit the dictionary description perfectly, family is whoever you have a familiar connection with. Isagi knew that, but yet, was it really home? 

“How are you feeling?” Isagi’s mother had cupped his face, her hands warm, just like a mother’s hand was supposed to be. But something was off. The puzzles of a family didn’t fit right. Isagi changed the angles but nothing felt right. Maybe it was the wrong piece. 

“I’m fine,” Isagi managed to say. “Just a bit soar.” 

“You’ll get better in no time—” the rest of his father’s words were a blur. Isagi could only catch small mingles of his sentences: field, career, r—” The last one cut off. Isagi looked up to see his mouth hanging open in hesitation. “You always have a home to come back to, don’t forget that Yoichi.” 

Home. 

The noun seemed to be a consistent occurrence. Annoying. Nothing felt like home. 

But R. 

What was it again? 

The rest of Isagi’s day was a motion picture without much motion. Quite ironic if asked by Isagi. His bed was placed right beside the window which let him see the view of the city. 

A dark sky blanketed over the world—Isagi didn’t like it— lights that sparkled as vehicles rushed. The night life was dark, and to Isagi: Night = Alone. Isagi didn’t like being alone, the faint memory of a hazy abyss he drowned in. It scared him. 

What’s just as bad?

Amnesia. 

A curse after curse had followed Isagi’s hind. It was a baffling experience, but maybe it was for the better. 

Starting on a fresh puzzle piece, a fresh canvas.

No scribbles. 

No wrong pieces. 

He’d start by building the frame of his puzzle— the lining. 

Isagi knew the first place he’d go to— the beach. He strangely wanted to feel the ocean’s embrace. If Nature’s calling had tugged him just right, maybe the puzzles would finally fit. 

The door opened. 

“You have guests Mr. Isagi.” A small group of people emerged from the door. The puzzle scrambled again, some pieces too big and others too small, some built in odd shapes, and maybe more were missing. Nothing fit right but Isagi let it go.

“How you feeling, champ?” Isagi knew they were tall. The mixture of pieces had brushes of orange on it. 

“Fine.” 

“Kunigami,” He stated. “My name is Kunigami.” 

So they knew. 

“I’m—” A pause. “Isagi,” he thinned his lips feeling tense. A room full of pieces that didn’t fit. It brought an unsettling feeling rising in him. 

“I’m Chigiri,” a voice more soothing took over, pieces hinted with the magenta from earlier. 

The rest followed with their names, it seemed he had a good memory but their faces were a mystery. He lined their name up with whatever their pieces had highlighted. 

Orange- Kunigami 

Magenta - Chigiri 

Purple- Reo 

White- Nagi

Brunette - Bachira

They were best friends; the word brought a salty taste on Isagi’s tongue, but he let is sink in. 

“You’ll be discharged tomorrow, feel like going anywhere?” Reo asked. 

Isagi knew the answer, but something in him had kept him from speaking it. 

“I don’t really know,” He sighed. Maybe appearing like he didn’t care would fight their curiosity off. “Were you there?” Isagi asked, going on a tangent instead of his plan. 

The puzzles shifted slowly, but they still weren’t recognizable. 

“When I became limp like this, were you all there?” Isagi clarified. 

“Do you really want the answer to that?” Bachira, a lively one, now silent at the mention of the past. 

“I can’t say I do,” Isagi hummed. “Forget I asked.” 

Thankfully, visiting hours had ended and Isagi was alone again. Though he didn’t enjoy solitude, he preferred it over strangers. No harsh feelings, he just couldn’t bring himself to embrace the idea. 

Isolated.

Freedom and fear clashed. 

Maybe living secluded would be nice. 

The ocean? 

A beach house where the songs of dolphins would be his daily tune. A nice thought, but to be truly alone. . . 

It would be quite lonely. 

What was it again? 

Something important? 

No. If it was, he’d remember. 

Maybe something the voice of his mind hid from him. A large blank hole in his memories. That has to be it. It was the only explanation, it couldn’t be anything else. 

Night became day and Isagi was finally ready to be discharged. His parents brought him fresh clothes that fit more loosely against his figure. It made Isagi realize how much smaller he became during those six years, he felt like a sack of bones that stumbled into a big world. 

“You’ll grow into them soon, Yo-chan,” His mom smiled. Her hands ran through the midnight locks of Isagi’s hair. It was grown out, longer than it usually is but his sprout stood proudly at the peak. “I missed you,” she smiled. “Promise me, no matter what you hear— you’ll be okay.” Her eyes looked like she’d gone years without sleep. Even bleach couldn’t save the bags that pulled her face into grief. 

“I’ll try.” 

“I know you don’t remember a lot, but the people around you remember for you.” She smiled. “If there’s anything you ever need, just ask, okay?” Her lips tilted up. Isagi knew she could barely keep herself together, the pieces of his mother’s face felt more put together; and maybe home could finally be something he belonged. 

“I will, thank you, mom.” For the first time since Isagi woke up, he felt gratitude. Nothing but words of a mother could make him feel this way. By instinct, his hands lift up to hug the women. Iyo was taken by surprise, but now that her baby was back, she could finally sleep knowing he wasn’t hanging on by the string of life. 

Isagi couldn’t walk, his legs were numb. So he was pushed around the hospital with a wheelchair. They said in time he’d regain his energy and he’d be normal again. But Isagi knew it was all a lie. Sure he’d be able to walk, but his legs were crushed from the accident he couldn’t remember. Isagi didn’t need a doctor to tell him how he destroyed his body, he felt it. 

As he was pushed through the hallways, Isagi received some gasps and wide-eyed looks.  

What’s up with everyone?

“Yoichi,” Isagi’s father started. “Your friends were thinking of an outing— feeling up to it?” 

A nurse made sure the elevator was vacant and the Isagi family climbed in. The nurse smiled and wished Isagi a “get well.” 

“Do I have to?” Isagi asked as soon as the elevator’s door shut. “I”m tired.” 

“Of course you don’t have to,” His mother smiled. “Rest as long as you need.” 

The elevator came to a stop and the door slid open. The lobby was even more crowded than the previous floor, dread bled into Isagi’s expression. He knew the starters weren’t just a coincidence. 

Maybe he was an idol?

There was no way, the idea of singing and dancing felt like a carnival to Isagi. A carnival that just didn’t speak to him. 

So who was he? 

He was twenty-six years old. Could someone so young really have such an impact? 

He was bound to find out, like the red string that connected fate and the elements of the world. Isagi would remember the passion that once burned through his veins, and just maybe, R would become something more than just a mystery.