He woke up. He was lying on the floor, staring up at a brightly lit ceiling. He could feel cuts and bruises all over his body, as if he had been fighting recently, but he couldn't remember the details. Clearly, someone had been better than him.

God, that pissed him off. He wasn't even sure why.

"Ah! He's awake!"

Suddenly, faces crowded in around him. Wide, trusting, innocent faces, like he hadn't seen in… how long was it? He couldn't remember. His mother would know.

His mother…

The nearest face to him, a girl with pink hair done up in twin-tails with two red ribbons, laid a hand on his forehead.

He wasn't wearing his hat. Why wasn't he wearing his hat?

"Hi there! Are you all right?"

He blinked. The pink girl was speaking to him.

"You fell in here through a window. I must say, you've been disrupting class for a few minutes now just for existing." She smiled. "Not to worry, though! We'll try and help you. Do you need to be taken to the nurse's office?"

"Uh…" He wasn't sure what to say. Days like this pissed him off. "Yeah. I think I'm injured bad."

The girl caught his gaze, and for the brief moment before he blinked and focused on her shoulder instead, he noticed she had pink eyes to match her hair. Weird. "Okay. Do you think you could stand?"

Stand… why was that word so familiar?

"Yeah, I think so." He sat up slowly, grunting as pieces of glass dropped from his body. He was stiff, sore, and he was pretty sure one or two bones were broken or fractured. (As usual.)

The pink girl grasped his arm gently. "Slowly, don't strain yourself! I'm the medical officer for this class, so I'll help you to the sick bay, okay?"

"…Okay." He accepted her help to get up, even though on a good day he could probably have thrown her like a paper airplane. She smiled at him again.

"All right?"

"Yeah."

He looked around himself. He was in some sort of school classroom, a clean white and beige affair that seemed more than just modern – to his eyes, it looked positively futuristic, like something out of an old sci-fi movie. The screen at the front alone – a high-tech projection type thing – was probably worth as much as the Speedwagon Foundation could make in a year. (What was that company for, again? It was oil or something, right?) Below him, a bunch of glass and, not surprisingly, a fair amount of blood. And…

"My hat!" He grabbed the precious black cap and jammed it securely on his head, nearly sighing with relief as he felt the comforting brim shadow his face. That was better.

"Ah, yes, that came off when you landed," said the pink girl cheerfully, ignoring the broken desks and pieces of window all around. She focused, instead, on him, giving him a pat on the back that dislodged some glass onto the floor. "It must be very important to you."

"It is."

"Here, follow me to the nurse's office." She turned and walked towards the door without taking any notice of her staring classmates (where was the teacher? Out somewhere?). "My name is Kaname Madoka. What's yours?"

He followed her, out into the corridor – or, rather, an open space – that led to other rooms. They all seemed to be walled with glass in a totally utilitarian and futuristic design. He stared despite himself.

Then he looked down again, realizing the pink girl had asked him a question. Kaname Madoka… A Japanese name. Why was he in Japan again? He had been… where had he been?

"Er… Kaname Madoka-san, was it? I am…" He hesitated, feeling his brain go fuzzy for a moment while he tried to remember his name. It was his own goddamn name, goddamn it, why was this so hard? "My name is… Kujo Jotaro. A lot of people call me Jojo."

The pink girl smiled radiantly. She really did smile a lot. "Call me Madoka, everyone does! It's nice to meet you, Kujo-kun." Jeez. He hadn't been called something like that in… how long was it? He wasn't sure.

"Likewise, Madoka-san."

She giggled, although he hadn't really said anything funny. "Come on, this way!"

"So, how old are you, Jotaro-kun?"

"I…" He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember how fucking old he was, and that was not ideal. "Seventeen, I think."

"Ah, you're already a third year! I'm in the first year of high school myself…" A flicker of something odd appeared on her face for a moment, but was gone again before Jotaro could blink. "Well, you might still be able to join our school as a transfer student."

He frowned. He wasn't supposed to be the transfer student. That was… someone else. Why couldn't he remember? And there was something he had to do. Something important. He couldn't stay here… wherever here was. (But where was he really supposed to be? He didn't know; maybe he'd be able to figure it out if he stayed a few days…)

"Madoka-san?"

"Yes?"

"Where… where is this place? What is this place?"

"Ah, you don't know?" She waved a hand. "Well, it doesn't matter. I suppose you're from out of town, by that school uniform." She adjusted her skirt delicately. "This is Mitakihara Senior School, in Mitakihara City, Japan. Is there anything in particular you'd like to know?"

They passed onto a long, glass-windowed bridge-tunnel, spanning the gap between two buildings. "Why can't I remember anything?"

Madoka stopped and turned around to look at him. "Eh? You can't remember? Can't remember what, exactly?"

He bunched his fists. "Can't remember how I got here, for a start. I've never even heard of a Mitakihara City. I could have sworn…" He rubbed his forehead under his hat. "I think I was out of the country, the last I can remember. But I have no idea where, or how I got back here."

"Hmm." Madoka's face was serious, concerned. "Maybe that fall gave you a concussion, or amnesia? We'll definitely have to get that seen to by the nurse. Do you know if there's anyone nearby who you can stay with? Who can help you? Maybe family in Japan, or something."

"Maybe, but… my mother…" He concentrated. There was something about his mother that he needed to remember. Something important. "I don't know," he admitted, finally.

"Well, not to worry, Jojo-kun!" Madoka patted him on the bicep (she couldn't reach any higher). "I'm sure we can figure something out for you."

"Thank you, Madoka-san. Truly."

"You're welcome!"

He felt oddly out of sorts, hesitant and uncertain as if the loss of his memories had also affected who he was as a person. He adjusted his hat and tried to ignore the feeling.

Madoka turned back towards the medical office. "You know, Jotaro-kun, today me and a couple of friends were going to go to the mall. There's a cool music store, a food court, and all sorts of interesting places… You can come, if you want!"

"Uh… sure. Got nothing else to do." He probably did, but he couldn't remember it for the life of him. And Madoka seemed marginally less annoying than some other girls he could mention.

(He didn't have a concussion. The nurse frowned at him, but fixed him up without tearing his expensive pants or damaging his uniform.)