When he opened his eyes, he was aware of exactly two things. First was his Stand Weather Report. He could feel it at the back of his mind, and he knew that if he willed it, it could materialize as a baby-blue humanoid figure, and he could use it to manipulate the weather. Second was that his memories were stolen. Not missing, but stolen.
Everything else in the world was alien to him.
The room was white, as was his bed. The gown he was in was white too, but it had black polka-dots on it. The bed was more firm than soft, and his pillow wasn't comfortable. His body felt weak but still strong enough to be useful. There was a piece of plastic and a tube coming out of the back of his hand. This felt instinctively wrong to the man. It was connected to a bag by his bedside. After staring at it for a minute, he grabbed the blue plastic tip and tugged at it. It easily came out. He flinched at the pain and the sight of his blood. He wrapped his hand in his gown.
After that he laid back in the bed and looked at the ceiling. He didn't know what to do next. He didn't know what his actual name was, why he was here, or what his purpose was.
He was empty.
Sometime later, a woman in a blue set of scrubs came by. Her eyes widened. She was speaking. He knew she was trying to convey information with words, but he couldn't understand the meaning behind her sounds. He stared blankly at her.
The woman left and quickly returned with a man in similar clothing and another woman with a white jacket on. The woman smelled sweet in a way he couldn't name, but he liked her and trusted her. He made no complaints when she shined a light in his eyes, even though he felt like he should jerk away. They made more meaningless sounds at him.
He would not remember waking up from his coma.
He was aware of exactly two things. First was his Stand Weather Report. Second, his memories were stolen.
Although he didn't know it, it had been a few weeks since he had woken up. He had learned to walk and dress himself.
The room was large and mostly brown. It was shiny. He was sitting among a row of chairs, and there was a nicely dressed man sitting next to him. Across the room was another man dressed similarly, and Weather hated his smell. There was a man in a set of black robes at the front of the room sitting in a high chair, and there was a dark-skinned man speaking to the people in the room. He had white hair and the strangest eyes. He had a sweet scent to him, and Weather found himself focusing more on that then what was happening. Their words were meaningless to him anyway.
Eventually, a gravel was swung, and the amnesiac jumped at the sudden sound.
He was aware of exactly two things. First was his Stand Weather Report. Second, his memories were stolen.
When he opened his eyes, he was behind metal bars and on a bed that was too hard to sleep on. His hair had been reduced to a buzz cut but was covered by a white, fluffy hat. His clothing was cheap.
He was on a bottom bunk, and with a groan, he sat up and stretched. His body ached, and he assumed the roughness of his bed was the cause. His stomach was empty and hurt. He needed food. He stood, stumbled around a bit, then went over to the bars and started to investigate them.
He walked on his toes.
Shortly after he started to inspect them, they retracted just as the first beams to sunlight shone in. In his surprise, the man quickly pulled his hands back.
There was a thump as the man from the top bunk climbed down. He had dark hair, which was a contrast to the amnesiac's light hair.
" ▇ ▉ ▊▻ ◅ ▵ ▹✿ ❁."
He was talking to him, but he couldn't understand what the other was saying. The former sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. He looked annoyed. The man who woke up first titled his head to the side.
"◥ ▼₴ $✵ ✶〘〙「" He spoke again.
The other man shrugged. He knew he was trying to convey something, but he was much more concerned about trying to find food than trying to decipher an impossible riddle. He started to walk out of the cell, but his cell mate grabbed his arm and got him to turn back around. The man pointed at himself.
"✎◄➤ ➥ ▦ ▧ Marc Jacob."
He earned a blank look from the other man. The speaker pointed at himself again.
"Marc. Marc. Marc."
"Marc?" He echoed back.
That earned him a smile, so the amnesiac knew his response was the desired one.
The other pointed at the white-haired man. " ➥?" Then at himself. "Marc."
That was his name, the amnesiac realized with surprise. He was asking who he was.
Unfortunately, he didn't know his name, but he knew he had to have something to call himself. He took a moment to think, then answered.
"Weather Report."
His Stand was the entirety of his identity at the moment, so it might of as well be his name too.
Today would be the first day he remembered. It would be the start of his memory.
"Weather Report?" Marc asked skeptically, and Weather nodded.
Then there were words that sounded like gibberish to Weather, but he felt something new inside of him. It was the drive to learn, so he could understand what the people around him were saying and be able to communicate with them. Marc left the cell and motioned for Weather to follow him. He did.
Time passed. Weather learned.
He understood the flow of the day. He would wake, eat, and spend his time in-between meals roaming the prison and trying to learn as much as he could. There was a group of people who would play cards twice a week, and Weather soon observed the game enough to join them. There was a library in the prison, and Weather liked to look at the pictures in articles and scientific texts, even if he couldn't read. He learned through colorful diagrams that water evaporate, became clouds, fell to the ground as rain, and then the whole cycle started over again.
By copying what others said, he had learned to speak. He didn't know how to properly string together sentences yet, but he knew enough verbs and nouns to get his point across.
He did not know what crime he had committed. He knew he was supposed to serve seventy-two months, but as months passed, he still had seventy-two more months to go.
One day when he was alone in a backroom of the library, he heard an unfamiliar and slightly high pitched voice. It was not the voice of an adult.
"Hey."
Weather looked up from his book about thunderstorms. In front of him was a small child with blond hair. There should have been no children at the prison.
The child looked nervous. Weather didn't think anyone should be nervous about him.
"You don't have your memories?" the kid asked.
"No..." Weather answered quietly, like he was afraid his words would spread out into nothingness if he spoke too loudly.
"There's something not right about this prison. My mother lost her memories too."
Weather frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. That was strange. He hadn't thought about it, but why where his memories gone? Who had taken them? How? Why?
"Stolen. Memories stolen," Weather explained.
The child nodded. "Do you know what happened? Did you have your memories before you came to this prison?"
Weather shook his head.
"Oh. Um, my name is Emporio. Do you have a name?"
A nod. "Weather Report, but not real name. I don't remember."
The kid smiled slightly. "Weather Report? Where'd you get that from? The TV?"
"Stand. Like a... spirit." He couldn't think of a better way to describe it, but his words got Emporio's eyes to widen.
"You have a Stand?! I have a Stand too. Follow me."
Emporio left the library, and Weather obediently followed. They went around a corner, down a flight of stairs, and then through a crack in the wall that Weather wasn't sure how he fit through. They arrived in a music room with a black piano in the middle of it.
"This is my Stand," the boy explained. "This entire room is a ghost. It used to be here, but it burned down. My Stand brought it back."
Weather nodded.
"Why you here?" Weather asked.
Emporio grew crestfallen. "My mother was a prisoner here when she gave birth to me. Shortly after her memories were stolen, she... died. She wasn't like you. She wasn't walking around. She just... stopped. Then a Stand attacked her, and she was melted away."
Weather felt his heart break. He also felt pure, furious anger for the first time.
"Sorry," Those were the only words he could find to describe the sorrow he felt.
Emporio smiled again. "Thank you."
"I going to find who did it," Weather swore.
Emporio shook his head. "Thanks, but I don't know if that's possible. I've lived here my whole life, and I haven't found out anything about who or what did it. Anyway, if you... if you want to, you can come to this room whenever you want, and we can try to help you get your memories back, or we could play games or something. It gets sort of lonely here by myself."
Weather didn't need to be asked twice. After a few weeks, he ended up spending a majority of his time in the room. The guards didn't care if he wasn't in his cell at night.
A little over a year after he first met Emporio, his roommate's sentence ended. His cell was now empty and quiet, and he became more interested in the music room.
Annasui knew plenty of omegas who hated their second sex, but he loved it.
Humans had three second sexes. 95% of the world were betas. They were the normal humans. The remaining five-percent was split equally between alphas and omegas.
Alphas were the rulers of the world. Alphas oozed charisma, were natural born leaders, and were on average, taller and stronger than the other sexes. Half of the presidents of America had been alphas despite them composing only 2.5% of the population, which did tick Annasui off. He wanted to see the first omega president in his life time. Additionally, through pheromones, an alpha could make their strength known.
Alphas were the leaders and the protectors. Omegas were more versatile. Chiefly, they were nurtures. Since ancient times, it was acknowledged that omegas helped the people around them. Their mere presence in hospitals made people recover faster. They reduced stress. They inspired creativity and ambition within their pack. Children raised by an omega were healthier, smarter, and stronger. Alphas made themselves known to the world. An omega's second sex was quieter and its benefits were more passive, but omegas were sought out like they were made of gold.
The other big difference between omegas and betas was sex. They were more fertile and had much easier pregnancies than betas. Omegas were sex on legs, irresistible even to betas. Annasui knew he could walk in a room and probably get any person he wanted, and he loved it. Alphas got one runt when they presented. Omegas went into heat throughout the year. For Annasui it happened every six months like clock work, but the number of annually heats varied from one to five depending on the person. Some found the irresistible urge to have sex for a few days suffocating. Annasui savored it.
There were roles in society for each of the secondary sexes, and while it wasn't forbidden for one to step out of their role, it was stigmatized. Betas could do whatever they want. Alphas got the difficult jobs that were high stress and required decision making and long hours. They were the CEOs, doctors, politicians, and the judges. Omegas were expected to serve. They could and often did have high paying, important jobs, but they were never supposed to take on any leadership. They were to do what they were told. They supported and held the team together. If they didn't work, they were pampered as trophy spouses for rich betas or alphas.
Annasui had worked as a car mechanic. It was dirty work and his boss wondered why an omega would want the job, but he was overjoyed to have Annasui. The omega loved taking things apart. Since he was kid, he enjoyed laying out the parts to phones, remotes, anything he could get his hands on. When it came time for him to get a job after high school and he could rebuild his own car blindfolded, it seemed like the perfect fit. It was relaxing.
He got a beautiful alpha girlfriend when he was nineteen. His ex and past two girlfriends had been betas. Annasui had decided he wanted something more. It wasn't uncommon for either alphas or omegas to date betas, but the two were drawn together like magnets. In heat, there was nothing an omega craved more than the way only an alpha could dominate someone. Betas lacked the pheromones for it. Alphas viewed omegas as what they deserved.
Like many things, being an alpha or an omega was a scale, like sexuality. A strong omega was very submissive and focus on their pack. Alphas varied in their strength, both physical and in their charisma, and the more alpha or omega a person was, the more attractive they were generally thought to be.
His girlfriend was on the lower end of the alpha spectrum, which Annasui didn't mind. He wasn't too omega himself. He was a romantic fool like a typical omega, but he had the violent obsession with dismantling things that had gotten him into trouble multiple times. He had a temper too. Omegas were supposed to be well behaved.
When he was twenty-one, he went to surprise his girlfriend with flowers one day. She was fucking another man, a beta. Annasui killed them both on the spot and methodically took them apart. He went home afterwards and showered. The cops showed up at his house the next day. As he was being handcuffed, his mother screamed that he was no longer her son. His father didn't disagree.
Alphas may have been the stronger sex, but there wasn't a force on Earth that could compare with the anger of a wronged omega. If they didn't get revenge, their pack would.
Regardless, it was no excuse for murder. He and the jury knew it. He was sentenced to prison for twelve years.
When he first arrived at the prison, they brought out an alpha to smell him, to verify that he was an omega. Then, he had to sit through a short video on birth control. Annasui had been on the pills. Since omegas were very fertile and had their heats, the prison forced a birth control that they couldn't choose not to take on them. Some omegas found it cruel. Annasui just found it funny that they didn't do the same for beta. He was always impressed with number of options out there. Shots, patches, rings, even something that could inserted directly into his anus. He went with the arm implant.
His thoughts weren't on how his life had suddenly changed. He had thought through that while he was tearing his girlfriend to pieces. They were on his heats. He needed to find himself an alpha in the prison. Omegas were allowed a private room and a guest during their hearts. To make someone suffer through a heat alone was considered torture, and his next heat was supposed to be in two months. Annasui knew he could definitely get a beta to join him, but he wanted another alpha to fuck.
Weather wasn't sure how long he had been in prison.
He knew he had been in Green Dolphin long enough for Emporio to grow a foot and Marc's bed to grow dusty. Weather had become fluent in English. He had even picked up some Spanish from other inmates. He learned to read from listening to prisoners read out loud, and he and Emporio liked to practice together. He knew what guards he could bribe to get extra food for Emporio, and he figured out that he could make money by gambling. His Stand made it easy to cheat.
Some people thought he was ghost. He spent most of his time in the music room, unseen by everyone but Emporio. He rarely returned to his cell, but sometimes, like this night, he wanted privacy and a bed to sleep in. In the ghost room, he slept on the floor.
When he entered his cell, there was a man with pink hair laying on the top bunk.
He was gorgeous.
There were fishnets covering his torso, and Weather found it hard to look away from the revealed skin. He was beautifully androgynous. His long hair was sprayed out behind him. He was muscular, and Weather adored the hardness of his arms and thighs. He had long, pretty pink eyelashes and a masculine face. There was a bandage around his upper left arm. He smelled sweet, like delicious candy. He looked like he could both be a model and take Weather on in a fight. The other man must have noticed him staring, because he sat up, smirked, and offered his hand.
"Narciso Annasui. So you're my cell mate. Where the hell have you been? I was starting to think you actually were a ghost."
Weather reached upwards and shook his hand. "Weather Report. Nice to meet you," he said, hoping it was the right response.
"Weather Report?" Annasui repeated.
"Most people just call me Weather."
"Well, nice to meet you, Weather." Annasui let go of his hand. The smirk was still on his face. "Now, tell me about the alphas in this prison."
Weather didn't know what an alpha was.