Muddled Memories
Blinking his eyes, Gray found himself awake.
And confused.
The white ceiling, with thin lines running through it and creating strange images, wasn't the one he was familiar with. Slowly his senses awoke and his nose twitched in discomfort. The odd scent of sterileness alongside blood and a tang of something else... it wasn't pleasant. But it was a scent associated with injuries and, Gray realized, it was probably an infirmary. And since he was lying in a bed in such place, it only meant that he'd been hurt.
He raised both his arms, looking at his hands in the weak light of the morning. Because it was morning, right?
Gray stretched slightly, only feeling his body with some aches, he'd expected them. Gray sat, a hand rising to push some stray hairs from his forehead, startling as he felt the bandage.
What had happened to him?
He couldn't remember anything. He wasn't sure about where he was either. How had he gotten to this room?
It was all a jumbled mess, almost as if a fuzzy, dark grey cloud had been superimposed, was coating his memories. Possibly damaging them forever.
It was a silent place.
Sure, infirmaries and healing wards are wont to be in such a way but there was something in this place that felt haunted.
The silence was too much, heavy and so thick that almost pressed over one's skin.
Gray could feel himself gasping for air at times. It was as if his body couldn't get enough air, despite trying to.
It was lonely as Gray wasn't allowed outside of his room. He didn't see anyone caring for him. Once again, the idea of some weird ghost people tending to him struck him.
The burst of colour was completely unexpected.
He'd been encased in white and pale grey for too long now that even the smallest drop of colour was a complete revolution to his senses.
And he was no longer alone either.
There were people around him - he only now realized to be sitting in a bench overlooking a well-manicured garden - going about their lives and not paying Gray any mind.
Then, someone was sat beside him. Gray didn't acknowledge the person but the air surrounding him now seemed to be sparking with energy.
Gray turned his head to the side and took in the stranger.
Said stranger was looking expectantly at Gray. Sitting across the bench with folded legs, both hands resting at his ankles as he leaned forward. The pink hair was fleetingly familiar, as was the face - a dumb face, his mind supplied from some forgotten corner - and the simple outfit clashed somewhat with the ever present scarf.
Why yes, light fabric of the tunic and trousers, both in complementary brown colours, clashed with the winter implement. However, to Gray, it felt as exceedingly natural, somehow.
"What?" Gray said at long last.
"What do you mean, what?" He asked, brow furrowing.
"I mean that I don't know what you want. Can I help you with something?" Gray shot back, his right hand waving emphatically.
"What's the story with that bandage?" The stranger asked. That made Gray touch the fabric reflexively.
"I wouldn't know." He answered truthfully. "I just... woke up like this." The shrug punctuated his statement.
"Fine. Let's go then. I bet the others are waiting." The pink-haired stranger stood and held out his hand.
Something clenched in Gray's breast. He was conflicted. On the one hand, he felt like he shouldn't go wherever but, at the same time, he knew that he could trust him.
He grasped the other's hand.
As they were both standing, Gray looked around. The bright colours from before had become muted, the colours dimmer and turning to dark reds and browns.
"Where are we going?" Gray asked at last.
"To where someone, hopefully, might help you." The other said with conviction. "Let's go!"
And they started walking, hands still being held.