He is wincing as he gets up. He was walking across a street, when all of a sudden, he felt as huge force slam into him, and he flew three meters onto the sidewalk, groaning in pain, as a loud noise was made somewhere behind him.
He turned around. All he saw was... A truck.
And traces of blood.
He was dizzy, as he clambered to his feet clumsily, his school bag, along with his books and papers, all scattered around, papers floating down, gently touching the ground.
What happened?
There was an abnormal crowd, and the driver of the truck was stumbling slightly as well, with a small cut on his head, from what he could make out.
"Call an ambulance?!"
"What happened?!"
All cries similar to these rung out throughout his disoriented head, and the busy street.
Someone helped him to his feet. He vaguely made out... A rambling Italian?
What?
His legs gave out beneath him as he fell to he ground like a doll, looking lifeless and weak. His head came in contact with something... Hard.
He blacked out.
Xoxoxo
He is sinking in this darkness.
Its murky, he can't make out anything. He sees... People? Is that him? He sees the boy that looks like him with a long haired boy, grinning at him, he sees a formal traditional Japanese lady with flowers in her black hair. He sees a Italian boy, judging by the accent in the voices that ring out. A big muscular blonde boy.
Then he sees the long hair boy again, this time laughing at the boy who looked like him as the boy was crowded around by many other students laughing at the small boy's misery.
He felt murky, than clear as a vision came to him, than he felt like he was sinking in nothingness again.
Then they all swirl into a giant twister of thoughts that circle him, holding him tightly until he feels he can't breath and he is gasping for breath and there is none, and its so painful and he can't think of anything else as he feels like cookie dough, kneaded, cut, rolled, baked.
Then his dark souless eyes flash open as s bright light drowns out all the darkness.
He heard voices.
"Kiku!"
"Is he awake?"
"Oh my god you had us so worried Kiku!"
He makes out boys, girls, men and woman.
A stern man orders every protesting person out as only he and the woman in white dresses start doing things to him.
Then they ask questions.
"Hello Kiku, how do you feel?"
The boy stares back at her. Kiku? Was that his name? He frowns slightly to himself. He isn't named Kiku. His name is... His... His name is...
He can't remember.
The nurse stares, confused at him as he racks his brain for a name.
He comes up with none.
"Excuse me. But is Kiku my name?"
The nurse stares at him for a few seconds before screaming for a doctor.
He hears words like "memory loss" and "probably temporary" and "fine".
He leans back, confused.
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"Don't you remember me Kiku?"
A heart broken... Greek person? Stares at him, his eyes hopeful.
"Who are you?"
And the hope shatters.
Many come in, ones he recognizes from those strange visions. All except the long haired chinese boy.
So he asks.
"Is there a long haired chinese boy here, by any chance?"
Every one of them freeze.
He stares back, confused.
The Greek boy is crying and begging to know why he didn't remember him, but remembered this person named "Yao".
The American saddens, along with the majority of the room, while confusion also sets upon them.
"Well, no."
"Oh." He frowns. He recognizes them all before from his weird visions, but the Chinese boy isn't there.
He doesn't understand what is going on.
Xoxoxo
They tried everything they could to bring the boy's memories back. It was no longer just a temporary phase. They were all worried, nearly a year after, and he was still drawing a blank.
Kiku, what he thought was his name, heard that he had apparently lost his memory. He was thrown out of the way of a truck, and the he was thrown onto the sidewalk, but his head hit a rock, twice. They told him they couldn't reveal his savior's identity, due to personal requests and reasons.
Since he can't do that, he decided to thank every grave today instead. Even if he couldn't know who was who, he could still thank the others by paying his respects and thanking them for living a good life.
He walks through the big black gates as he starts at the first tomb stone.
He does it for hours. One by one.
Xoxoxo
This gravestone was strange.
Kiku stared at it, lost, as he tried to remember what was so significant about it.
He tried, and after ten minutes he got it.
The name was marked, Wang Yao, and the inscription detailed him as a cheerful person, and a hero.
The picture was so familiar though.
The picture was of a smiling young man with a black ponytail to the side.
He thinks, and thinks, and realizes that his is the Chinese boy in his visions.
He gets those visions once in a while, and they are always the same.
He moves forward as his hand trails over the picture, a delicate frown crossing his features.
The date of death was also the date they told him he had nearly died, but lost his memories.
He realizes that he has not even lived past twenty,yet died so young.
He felt somehow connected to this grave as his hand brushed off some dust.
"Kiku?"
He turns and there is a small group of people there.
They were the first people he saw when he woke up.
"What are you doing here? Did you remember?!"
"Ah... No."
They all sigh disappointed.
They each pay their respects to the grave that sparks Kiku's curiosity.
"Umm... How did this Wang Yao die, if you don't mind me asking?"
One smiles grimly at him.
"He died giving up his own life for another person, even if this person isn't themselves anymore."
"Oh." the way it was phrased was strange.
Instead of paying his respects to more graves, he goes home.
He only feels confused.
Xoxoxo
He visits the grave again today. For some reason, he enjoys talking to it, because he felt that the person was a good listener, even if they couldn't talk to him.
"I don't know why, but I think I knew you in the past."
He swears he heard a faint twinkling voice in the distance replying,
"You have."
He always goes back there again every free moment he has.
Xoxoxo
He frowns, as he looks at the newspaper article.
He was still receiving an education, as he was still sixteen.
They had a project today, and they were told to look through newspaper articles for their literature class, and look for an emotional story where they could rewrite the article using more descriptive sentences with more emphasize on important parts and less attention on useless parts to get a good story out of it.
It has been a year and a half since he has lost his memories. He attempted to get into another relationship with Heracles, apparently his old boyfriend, to see if it would work and please the other boy, but he just found it wouldn't work, as well as Heracles being frustrated with him as Kiku wouldn't return hugs or kisses, and they had just split.
His eyes are currently scanning a page. Wasn't that his name over there? Or what was supposed to be his name? Honda Kiku. Kiku Honda.
He frowned. Apparently, he had nearly been hit by a truck that had just turned the curb without really checking to see if the road with clear, and he nearly got hit by the truck, but then a sixteen year old boy that hadn't gotten on well with him had pushed the boy out of the way, getting hit by the truck himself. The boy had been hit hard and had died on impact.
Of course, he already knew all of this. But maybe it was the name. His fingers trailed over the print.
Yao Wang.
He quickly reads over everything else.
It seemed that Yao hadn't gotten on with him at all, and according to other close friends of boy him and Yao said that they could have been enemies, raising the question of why he had saved his life.
The driver was a lazy eighteen year old boy looking for a part time job.
Kiku is so sure that they were talking about his incident. There couldn't have been another Honda Kiku in the same situation as him.
It mentioned things like his memory loss, and there was a blurred picture of the crash site after it had been mostly cleaned up, but he could see the red on the blurred image of the truck.
There is also a picture of the smiling boy that had been his friend for the past few months, and the one that had saved him a year and a half ago.
And he realizes what everything that has been said to him after the accident meant.
His eyes widened ever so slightly.
Yao Wang,Wang Yao, the name was just so familiar to him now, and it didn't just feel like the name of the boy that had saved him so many months ago.
Wang Yao, Yao Wang.
He sees the Chinese boy laughing at him as he is made fun of. He sees him smirking at his despair, he sees so many insults rained down on him like gentle, beautiful, striking snowflakes, that are actually so, so cold.
They had really hated each other. And he remembers other things too.
He sees his stern, beautiful, polite mother. His father that had abandoned them. Heracles, who he had met when he was thirteen, and when they began dating at fourteen. Alfred, Arthur, Feliciano, Ludwig, so so many names.
He sees more than that too.
He sees a five year old version of him smiling up at the moon with a seven year old Yao also looking up at the moon next to him. Then there are many little kids running all around. A tiny little baby clinging to that seven year old Yao, along with a grinning Korean dancing around, giving Yao and himself enormous hugs. A little girl is also clinging go him with a flower in her hair. A small boy and girl also sit down between them, smiling happily. And it just felt so much like family.
He is frozen as all this goes over his mind.
Yao was his brother.
He appeared to not live with him anymore, and never did, but he just felt all these memories were true.
I am Honda Kiku. I am sixteen now. I was put into a hospital nearly two years ago, because I was nearly hit by a truck. I was saved by a boy that had appeared to hate me. I had a boyfriend named Heracles. I was bullied. I have a mother. I have a father that abandoned my mother and I so many years ago. I also have a lot of step siblings, as well as a few step mothers, due to my father not being what I see as a honorable man. I think the boy that saved me is my brother. He has to be my brother. I saw a memory of him and me, as well as many young children, watching the moon in a happy mood, and my instinct just tells me he was my brother. I wish I could refer to him as is and not was.
I'm Honda Kiku.
And its like I never lost my memories again.
These are the thoughts that are running through the boy's mind as he takes it all in.
He remembers so much more than before, his past, his childhood.
The only thing he didn't get was why Yao had treated him so badly, yet had given his life for him.
Xoxoxo
He didn't tell anyone he remembers. The only downside is the looks they still give him, the ones wishing for him to remember because they don't know he already does.
He visits Yao every day though. He tried to do research on his past, but there wasn't much luck. He has so many questions unanswered.
Today, is the second year after his death. He looks at the grave with mournful eyes as he simply stands and stares and feels.
He placed some chrysanthemums on the grave. He did manage to find out it was one of his favourite flowers.
"Hello Yao-san." he had gotten back into the habit of adding the "san".
"It seems to be two years now. Two years since you gave your life for mine. I wonder if I should be calling you Oni-Chan. I still don't have answers to all my questions, but I still really think you are my brother."
He smiles slightly, although sadly, at the grave.
"I hope you are in a better place now. I still wonder why you saved my life, yet appeared as though you hated me. There must be a good reason though. Not many choose the honorable path. I don't know if I would have. I must leave now, but I do hope you are well right now."
He strode away, feeling just a tiny bit better about himself.