"Angeletta?" The voice seemed far away, and far off the grid of insanity as well. The voice wavered with every syllable. She seemed to remember it, it was familiar to her. The tone, the pitch of the voice, yet she couldn't pin point who it was – or where it was coming from. At that moment it occurred to her she didn't even know where she was. It was dark, extremely dark, she could hear certain voices spilled out around her yet she didn't know where she was. "Angel, wake up." Wake up? She thought, she was asleep? Was she truly asleep, everything was dark – her eyes were closed. Could she open them however? She tried to. Or at least tried to move. Did it work?
"Ey! Her finger moved!"
She wanted sigh. Well something moved. "Angel, can you hear me? Please, wake up. It's me, Izumo."
Izumo, who was that? When did she meet a Japanese man? There was barely any Japanese people back in France. "Come Ang!" A loud voice yelled, a different voice than the other man. This one sounded a lot more childlike, Izumo sounded more mature. A loud slap was heard. "Ow! What the hell Fushimi!"
She tried once more, trying to peel herself away from the darkness; this time, instead of her finger moving – her eyes slowly fluttered open. She was met with a bright light. "Angel!" Izumo spoke in surprise. She groaned, tilting her head to the side to hide from the bright light as she blinked.
"Ma tête se sent comme il est sur le point d'exploser." (My head feels like its about to explode.) She groaned, her body aching with every small movement.
"Angel, what was that? I don't know what you said?"
She groaned loudly, turning her head to the side. Finally, she was able to see. Able to see a man with blonde hair and a pair of glasses. An attractive man with blonde hair and glasses. "Qui es-tu?" (Who are you?).
"Angel?"
Huffing, she rolled her eyes. "Mon nom est Angeletta." "My name is Angeletta.) She muttered.
"Come on, Ang! You know we don't speak French!" the childlike voice yelled. Angeletta sighed, forgetting there were others in the room and turned to look at who else there were. A small girl with long white hair and peculiar red eyes, a short stubby young man with chestnut colored hair and a dark beanie, a scrawny kid with dark hair and a pair of glasses, and a tall man with fire colored hair; leaning on the wall.
"Who are you people," She muttered, finally in Japanese. "And why are you in my hospital room, why am I even in a hospital room."