Rating: T - mild drinking and heavy elements
Memories bring about many things. They bring us into a state of nostalgia, remind us who we used to be. They provide a compass, so we never loose sight of where we came from.
Usually, this is something you never want to forget. but for the few, memories were not so much a compass, rather a chain. Every time you try to walk away, you're abruptly stopped be the cold links, constantly reminding you who you are... who you'll never be.
Nine was often laughed by these memories, keeping him up each night. Slowly chipping away at his sanity. It had been this way ever since they had climbed the walls to escape that terrible place. When they first left, there was a hope for them. Nine told himself he'd do his best to create a life for twelve and himself. He planned to get them out of Tokyo, far from everything. Far from the chains.
But still, they took hold of him. Not in a form of pity, or the tortures they endured... but in the form of sad, purple eyes. They haunted him, tearing apart his conscience, and his humanity. Not a night passed where he didn't experience them looking straight at him, then swallowed by the flames. The dream of the alarm rung in his ear.
Pushing them away was pointless, his memories defined him, he would never escape. So instead of running from him, he became them. Accepting his purpose filled with vengeance and justice. Memories of that place, became his purpose. He grew used to the constant ringing so much, that when it rarely occurred... the silence was defining
it was then that he discovered his purpose. Maybe, if he brought light to his memories, he could escape those eyes. The hope that one day he would succeed, was the only thing keeping him alive, his only way of coping. That was when, not only his fate was decided, but also that of his dear friend, Twelve.
Twelve was good natured most of the time. He always smiled, and wished for the happiness of those important to him. He always laughed int he face of danger, never showing any sign of vulnerability, using his smile as a mask. His memories of that place were not vivid as those of Nine. That whole part of his life was a blur, only one big task. There were no ties to it... not a triggering feeling, or even the taste of the food could bring him to melancholy.
He wasn't chained by the past, simply because, well he couldn't remember it. He did remember what they did, what they had experienced, but he had forgotten the feelings tied to them. So for long he went along with what Nine wanted, simply because he wanted to make his friend happy. He acted like he was plagued by the memories himself, but in reality, he had none at all.
He acknowledged himself as an empty shell, of a person that once was, but is no longer. Someone with no ties to a past, throwing away his future. He was content with this, until for the first time since that place... he saw pain. Because of his lack of his own memories, Twelve was always curious, looking into the business of humans, those with lives.
He thought nothing of if when he had interrupted the putting down and embarrassment of a fellow classmate. So, he played with their minds a bit, jumping into the cold pool below, leaving the bullies speechless. Yes, He thought nothing of it, until he saw the eyes of the victim. Somehow saturated in sadness, lacking a light. He was shaken up by it, without a doubt, but ignored it altogether.
When he met her again, he almost thought he had finally lost it. He didn't care at all, that was, until she spoke. When the words left her mouth, pale yellow lights clouded his vision. So, he let her live, just that one time.
She was different then everyone else, but when he thought about it. Everyone was different, so no one is really.
That was the truth he knew; so why did he find himself so concerned with her. He tracked her, blaming it simply on the fact that she could expose them. He found her reading, then took a chance to mess with her a bit. He let himself go for a second, but instantly pushed back on his mask of insanity. Warning her of himself.
He promised himself he wouldn't involve himself with her anymore. But he couldn't forget the color of her voice, the odd pale yellow. He found himself fascinated with this... Lisa Mishima.
The first times he saw her, he kept on his mask. Showing a crazed uneasy side. Keeping her on edge. But over time, she noticed his face changed. His expressions softened as his words became more genuine.
When he gave her a ride on his bike, thats when he decided that there was no going back now. He had made his decision, he had become apart of her life.
Soon, he had taken her in, much to the hesitation of Nine.
He couldn't really put a finger on why he cared so much, until one night when they had finally settles into their new base. The three Sphinx, climbed the stairs to their loft space, exhausted and shaken up from the night occurrences.
"Its late, its best we all sleep. Five knows about us now, we need to be prepared." Nine said emotionlessly.
"Okay." Lisa stated nervously, heading into the kitchen.
"Good good." Twelves' voice wavered ever so slightly from exhaustion. But before he could climb the loft, nine grabbed his shoulder forcefully.
"Why do you keep insisting she join us? Its better if we stop involving ourselves with her."
"I know, I know." Twelve waved him off.
"Why do you care then? You can't forget what we have to do."
"I haven't forgotten, not at all." He answered seriously.
"Thats a lie. You know what they did to us, we have to complete this. She's going to get hurt, and we're going to run into trouble with Five on our tails."
"Nine, she's helping us."
"Thats not why you want her around. You have to remember why we're doing this." He said dryly.
"I know why we're doing this."
"And is she more important than that?"
"If you're asking me if she's more important than a past I can't even remember, then me answer is yes." He leered at him. There had never been tension between the two. In those words, Nine was given a small sight into the mind of his friend. His facial expression didn't alter at all, he only waited to hear the rest. "I want to remember things, from now. The stupid things she's done, I can remember those. I want to remember them!"
Nine said nothing in reply, only climbed the stairs to the loft, not even acknowledging him.
Twelve stood shocked, not moving from the hall. Just lost in his thought. The truth was, he wanted Lisa around because she gave him things to remember, something different, something he could talk to, someone who could remember him.
"Twelve?" Pale yellow lights surrounded him, and he turned around to face her. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, yeah I'm fine!" He laughed. "Don't, don't worry about me at all. C'mon, let me show you something." He took her by the wrist and led her into the kitchen. She stumbled behind him, surprised by his expression. He wore the same crazed expression he often had when he first met her.
"What?" She squeaked. He didn't answer, but pulled two glasses from the cabinet and set them down on the counter forcefully. He moved in an odd way, with little control over his limbs. Suddenly he pulled out a tall glass bottle full of a clear liquid. Lisa questioned whether or not this was water. But kept the doubt in the back of her mind, nervously.
He poured the glasses to the brim, then handed one of them to her.
"Twelve? What is this?" She brought the glass to her nose and smelled it. Almost choking from the scent, she put the glass down. "Twelve, you drink?!"
"No not really, but its just for special occasions." He laughed.
"Special occasion? How is this-?" She stopped, noticing he had already downed the glass and was pouring himself another.
"Aren't you going to drink?" He smiled oddly, drinking the second glass without a care. His eyes twitched and he uneasily smiled at her, revealing the pain behind his eyes. As he was about to pour himself a third, Lisa grabbed his arms, making his eyes grow wide.
"I think you should stop." She shouted nervously. "You're not going to remember anything if you keep going." His surprised expression faded away, as he brought her face close to his.
"Thats kinda of the point, miss Lisa." He whispered, going back to pouring his glass.
"What? why would you want to forget?" she sat herself on the counter top.
"Why wouldn't I want to?" He fidgeted. "Its a terrible, terrible world we live in Miss Lisa." He breathed, picking up her glass.
"Forget with me, won't you?" He held it out to her.
"Twelve-" she started, searching for the words to say. She took the glass, then set it down beside her, never wanting to smell the toxic liquid ever again.
"Ya know, I actually don't even remember why we're doing this." He took another sip. "Don't remember a thing. The past really, its all just a bunch of pictures to me. So really, there's nothing to forget. Except, what I'm doing now. Maybe if I can forget what I'm doing now, I'll find myself away from here. Where I can finally remember things I want to."
"What do you mean?"
"If I can forget all this, maybe I can trick myself into thinking I'm actually a person. Ya know, a sane person. With memories and feelings." He looked out the window, then flashed a goofy smile, clearly out of it. "So just, let me forget-" he started in a nonchalant way, but abruptly stopped by Lisa lifting the bottle and pouring in down the sink.
"No!" she yelled, leaving him dumbstruck. "Sorry, sorry. I don't think its smart to forget. I mean, Nine, Nine needs you! I need you too, and if you forget-, just don't forget okay," she stopped. His eyes were wide, his cheeks bright red, and his eyes glazed over. "I just, don't want you to forget." when he didn't reply, she went into state of panic. Closing all the cupboards and washing the glasses in a hurry, she did whatever she could to get out of the room, thinking she had upset him.
When she looked at him, he was leaning against the wall, his head hanging low, with his mop of hair covering his eyes. Just as she was about to leave the room, a cracked voice broke the silence.
"Lisa, if things don't go how we planned, Don't forget me."
"Okay." She squeaked finding tears coming to her eyes.
"Thank you." he lifted his head, flashing a broken smile, finding comfort in the pale yellow.
well... this show is still breaking my heart. I don't care if the American forces don't ship Hisalisa... I always will. give feedback please, I'd love to know how I can improve!
~Astrid