A…ki…ra...
Tet…su…o…
Those words were all I remember about the dreams I've been having lately. No, more like nightmares. And the headaches; the headaches were more painful than I remembered them being. On top of that, I'd been seeing things. A glass of water moved to the left of where I'd set it, stuffed animals that were in the corner of the room suddenly nowhere to be found. It was all a little bit much more than I could handle. I'd been in this hospital – this nursery – for so long now.
And who were Akira and Tetsuo? I had only heard the names in my head, shortly before the headaches started. There was a Tetsuo mentioned in the news a few months back; an Akira too, but I wasn't sure if those people were the Tetsuo and Akira whose names I'd been hearing in my dreams. Whatever it was, I wasn't ready to think about it in too much depth. I'd have settled for being let out of here first. But I knew that wasn't going to happen; not after one of the senior kids here managed to escape, just to end up nearly getting killed and then disappearing.
It was all over the news for the past few months since it happened. The slaughter of the military and countless civilians. The rumors that some "messiah" had come back and descended on Tokyo, for whatever reason. The massive explosion at the Olympic stadium. It was the talk of late 2019. Heh. Funny that these are the topics on the news, 31 years after World War III. Everything kept pointing back to those two names, though. Akira… Tetsuo… How did they each connect to the massacre? To each other? To me? I hoped there was no real need to ever answer that last question. My head was pounding again, almost like it was reminding me that I was in pain. The door opened, and the nurse walked in, handing me a glass of water and a little cup of pills, which I was told were for keeping the frequency of headaches low. So much for that. I spied the chart held by the nurse, like I needed to tell myself again who I was.
My name is Miku.