Her first memory was of lines.
Just. . .lines.
There wasn't anything special about them, at least, as far as she could tell. But even so. . .
They were just lines.
"Don't forget, keep the brush vertical! We don't want smears, now do we?"
Every time she tried to remember anything else, it was always just the same dammed lines.
"Amazing work! Alright! Now let's see if we can read this one!"
They swirled together elegantly, creating an odd circle filled to the brim with both thick and thin lines. Lines always straight, but also curved and wavy. The more she tried to remember, the more it all just blurred together, leaving unrecognizable strokes in her mind's eye.
"This one's a little harder, but I think we ca do it! What do you say?"
When she tried remembering anything other than the lines, she'd catch vague sentences, people talking to her. But about what? She never really knew.
"I'm so proud of you Mi-chan! You're getting this quick!"
When she tried remembering where she was, nothing came.
It was always the lines.
Just the lines.
As if all she had done was stare at the varying lines for as long as possible.
But every time she felt like turning her head to look up, to the side, or where ever it was her guardian was, a white space filled the area they were supposed to be.
"Don't worry if you can't get it yet, it takes time."
Like the lines, the white space never changed.
It was annoying, really.
Why can't I remember?
"Why can't I remember it?"
A soft laugh filled her ears, a big hand ruffling her hair. "Mi-chan, all it takes is a little time and a lot of determination. Two things that you have plenty of! Don't worry, you'll be able to someday."
Someday, huh?
"There are big things for you Mi-chan, I just know it!"
All she had to do was remember. Just remember what the lines were.
"Look here Mi-mouto. See these lines right here?"'
"Yeah. . .what about 'em?"
A bark of laughter.
"These are more than just lines. At least to us. YHou see, where other see strokes of ink, we see the message hidden behind the ink. Get it?"
". . .no."
She felt herself being roughly moved from one set of arms into another.
"Honestly, you can't explain anything! Here Mi-chan, look at this line right here. It looks thick in the middle but thin by the end, right?"
"Uh huh. . ."
"But when it's connected to those lines right here. . .and here. . .do you see how smooth it all looks now? How nothing looks out of place?"
"Yeah, and?"
"When other people see this, they think of the pressure of the brush, how smooth the ink must've been when the lines were made. But what do you see?"
.
.
.
". . .um. . ."
"Go on, you can do it!"
I see. . .what they mean. Like. . .the strokes and stuff matter too. But. . .I see what's. . .underneath it. It looks smooth, but the edges are too sharp for that."
A pause.
"You were nervous whn you write this, weren't you?"
Two different laughs echoed as a pair of arms wrapped around her.
"See Mi-mouto? You've got it!"
Her first memory was of lines.
Lines.
Always the same.
Just what the hell did those lines even mean?
