I close my eyes before the numbness takes over my body. The warm feeling long gone. And with it, my precious memories of someone who I can't recall. The meaningful experiences that I dream to have are now way past my reach. And I can't help but beg for them to come back.

I have some memories of my parents, friends, and colleagues. It's not much, not even pictures, just voices. But in reality, I'll give them away just for a glimpse of that someone who is so precious to me. Or so that I know.

And I open my eyes to the wonderful scenery surrounding me. I can feel my body returning to normal, somewhat. The effects of the empty astral plane drains my energy, and the numbness soon turns into fatigue.

I don't know why I came here. I knew the feeling I had was just pure worthless hope, but I gave into it anyway. It's just a boring old meadow to everyone else. To me though, it's an art more breath-taking than my lonely heart. May it be, as my shattered heart is not breath-taking at all.

I have no identity. No life. Nothing. However, I just hope for someone to find me. Someone who knows me, and can tell me: what's going on? Who am I? Why am I here? Why do I have powers that nobody else possesses? And most importantly, why do I feel as if I just let someone down? I can't live all my life just knowing that I'm called Kazumi Shibuya, as stated by the doctor and the hotel manager.

But that is all in my imagination.

There is no one that can tell me who I am. There is no one to take me home. And there is no one that I let down.

In the end,

I'm just like a dead corpse,

Followed by its burned soul,

Which lingers helplessly like a ghost.

My shadows,

Reflected by my fragile life,

Also follows,

To someone like me,

'Help' is a word misused,

I live by my imagination,

Afterall, I am human,

But do we all feel this way?

We are known for intelligence and creativity,

And at the end,

When it comes to ourselves…

There is no on that can help me,

Except the person I'm imagining.

"Gene?" I whip my head around towards the voice unconsciously, as if I'm used to hearing it.

Then I see him.

Someone identical to my mirror image.

My other half.

My twin.

Every bit of memory rushes in.

And my view darkens.

When I wake up, I'm not alone any more.

Because Noll is with me.

A/N: I hope it was good! I originally planned on giving it a sad ending. But who can do that to poor Eugene and Oliver? They ARE twins. Actually, in the first version, Eugene was a lost ghost who remembered everything but Oliver, and he thought that Oliver was just his imagination. Because in his imagination, Oliver was the one who found his body and saved him. I might write a similar story to that plot later on. We'll see.