Bright.
That was the first thing I remembered upon regaining consciousness. It was quiet. Peaceful, even. It gave off a feeling similar to that of sunbathing. Except everything was a white blur, and I wasn't necessarily warm. But before I could really place where I was, things suddenly got a whole lot louder. Various tall shapes came into my vision, speaking strange words I didn't understand. I reached my arm up, attempting to keep the prying hands and loud words from making their way into my safe, blurry little bubble. But, for some reason, my arm remained at my side in the bed, numb and unmoving. Fear found itself prickling in my chest as I tried to scream out for help, but all that came out was a shrill squawk. Simultaneously a cool sensation made it's way up my arm as my eyelids began feeling heavy, the darkness pulling me down into it's world before I could even begin to protest.
When I opened my eyes for the second time, the world around me was a lot less chaotic. What used to be a bunch of watercolor outlines, blurred together into a mosaic of strange blobs was instead a lot clearer. Each specific object around me separated from one another and I could finally make out more distinct shapes. The walls were still a very bland white, furnished with a picture or two. There were two green chairs to my immediate right along with a wooden end table. A small vase sat on top with some gorgeous, fresh-looking flowers inside.
Was someone bringing me flowers?
But before I could entertain such an idea, a short figure made it's way into my line of vision. I blinked a few times, trying to manage a better view of whoever or whatever was vying for my attention. Their voice was very soft, as if not to frighten me. The quiet myriad of words spiraled on their way to my brain and I really only got two key phrases:
"Kakyoin Noriaki"
and
"Feeling".
The first two words I recognized as my own name, I wasn't 100% but it was familiar enough to question. Now wanting to seem rude, I attempted to answer the person's inquiry, but only a pile of offbeat, cotton-mouthed syllables came out. Again, I tried to speak but was quickly hushed, feeling the slight sensation of pressure on my palm.
"Squeeze my hand."
This I actually grasped and proceeded to focus on the task at hand, literally. With what decent vision I had, I see now that the person before me is a man of short stature, bald, perhaps with facial hair of some kind, or a mask over his mouth. I assume he must be a doctor of some kind, as his white coat suggested. Despite the heaviness and pain that come when I stretch those sore muscles, I give it my best shot. After a few seconds, I feel the warmth leave and instead am spoken to once again.
"Very good. We didn't think you would ever wake up at this point, this is very good news."
His words are much clearer this time, and I can understand and filter what is being said. But now, it was my turn to speak.
"...H-How...H...How," I sputter helplessly, my tongue and lips refusing to cooperate. The more I articulate gibberish, the more I see the man before me begin to spin. Sharp pains pierce my temples as I let out a light moan, arms rising slowly to clutch at my throbbing head. But unfortunately they don't make it there before the doctor grabs both of the appendages, forcing them down at my side as he calls out a word I don't recall. Not long after, silhouettes begin to flood into the white room, instead painting my failing vision a mix of dark blue. A familiar warmth travels up my arm and I'm invited to take a dip into the soft embrace of darkness.
My consciousness fades in and out as I'm poked and prodded. What really stirs me back is the intrusion of white hot light forcing it's way into my bubble of dark and leaving a blot of green that felt as if it had been engraved into my eye itself. Among the strings of words I hear mushing together and echoing my ears, I pick out another phrase that brings a strange, calming sensation to my chest.
"Call his parents."
My parents.
Parents.
Waterfalls of memories fall directly before the darkness. My mind replays the short clips of smiling faces, my heart swelling with each frame.
'My parents... They must be so worried about me,' I think to myself. But before any tongue tied words can escape my chapped lips, the darkness has once again deepening it's hold, pulling me so deep this time I fall into another peaceful sleep.
It was early the next morning that my parents came to visit me; I was still a little delirious from all the medication that I almost didn't recognize them. The pair were known for being stoic majority of the time so it surprised me to see them cry so much. Despite it only being apparently five years I was asleep, my parents looked like they had aged at least 10; which was probably my fault, now that I think about it. Over the few hours that we spent together, I quickly began to recall minor details about my life. I was a very talented artist, I even received a scholarship to a prestigious art school in America if I kept my grades up through high school. I really liked video games, cherries and apparently the color green, according to the clothes they brought from home. I was 22 now and I apparently didn't have very many friends except the ones I had embarked on the trip to Egypt with. Who were they again?
"You really don't remember the trip to Egypt? And to think you would've made so many wonderful memories," my mother said, her soft hand still practically glued to mine at this point. "Well except this one, anyway."
"Did I... Take pictures?" I asked almost reluctantly, fearing that I would probably have no recollection of them anyway. My mother smiled and quickly reached into her purse, pulling out a small Polaroid picture. Weakly I reached for it and brought it before my tired eyes. I noticed that I was standing in the middle between two much taller men, the man on the right looking to be of Middle Eastern descent. I couldn't quite put a name to his face. The older gentleman kneeling in front, I immediately pointed out as "Joestar". Specifically Joseph Joestar. The small dog on his lap also looked familiar, what was it? Twiggy? Rigby? I'm sure it wasn't that important... And the man grabbing at Joseph's face I recognized as someone named "Eiffel", I couldn't remember if that was his first or last name... Wait, no, that isn't right. He was French, I remember, but it wasn't something so silly. I decided to think on that one a bit.
When my eyes jumped over to the last remaining man in the photo, my heart started racing. I traced his every feature, my hands beginning to shake a little. What was it about this guy? He looked to be a student at the time like I was, judging by his clothing. He looked incredibly intimidating, yet handsome. Were we just good friends? It had to be something more...
A knock at the door tore me from my concentration, as my doctor and a young nurse entered the room. I didn't recall his name, so I simply nodded when he acknowledged me.
"I see you're beginning to recover a few of those memories. That is very good, yes, please exercise your mind as much as you can." He made his way to sit on the edge of my bed, a large packet of notes in hand. The doctor then proceeded to explain the extent of my injuries, probably again as he seemed to only be speaking with me as he droned. I didn't understand a lot of what he was telling me but nodded anyway. The majority of my injuries had been treated through means of total replacement of certain organs. He also said something about scarring that wouldn't disappear.
Apparently from the surgeries I had to endure in order to fix my abdomen, they were forced to put me into a medically induced coma. But because I had underlying brain damage that was left undetected, I was expected not to wake up. In fact, I wasn't even supposed to be able to move at all, much less remember how to talk or recall names or places. Apparently I had been regarded a hero for whatever went on in Egypt at the time and all of my expenses would be payed in full until I was better and then some.
"Now then, to talk about where your future lies. You will need extensive physical therapy in order to regain your motor function, not to mention the speech therapy to learn how to articulate again. In fact you may also need..."
Too much talking. It was starting to make my head hurt again. I just couldn't give my full attention, my mind kept floating back to the tall teenager with the strange hat. Something about him made my heart stir with warmth. It almost felt like I was in love with him or something. I couldn't remember what kind of sexual orientation I possessed, but that could very well be it. I just had to speak to him, I had to get rid of this agitated feeling.
"...How soon?" I didn't realize I had interrupted the doctor until my parents both shot a dirty look my way. "Sorry."
He didn't seem to be too phased with my sudden interjection and instead laughed it off. "Today, if you're up for it. Let your lunch digest, I will be back in an hour with the forms. Please relax until then."
I let a sigh of relief out from between my lips once he left the room, directing my attention back to the photograph.
"C-Contact?" I stuttered, pointing to the picture and showing my parents, I couldn't find the right way of saying it so I hoped that my feeble attempt at communication was enough.
"Yes, arranging a meeting for all of you might give you some insight into what happened. We won't let you down, Noriaki. Please do what the doctor says and rest. We can be here bright and early tomorrow morning if you wanted."
"Yes," was all I could muster as I felt the warmth draw away from my hand as the small room once again grew quiet and stagnant. I gazed back to the picture and focused as hard as I could on the dark haired teen. Desperately pleading with my fragile mind to remember who this was and what in the world I could do to contact him. I didn't understand myself why I was so desperate, but I just had to know.
'Jotaro...'
"Jotaro, honey, someone on the phone is asking for you."
The man in question let out a loud groan, startling the napping infant he currently had nestled in his arms. "What is it?"
"Something about an old friend?"
"Fuck, didn't I tell him I'm busy with the new baby? Tell him I'll call back," Jotaro grumbled, rocking the small baby in his arms in a feeble attempt to stop the onslaught of whimpers threatening to spill from her tiny mouth.
"...If you say so," his wife responded, promptly hanging up the phone and walking back into the kitchen where she was fixing up a nice dinner for little Jolyne.
This wasn't exactly the ideal life Jotaro had had in mind when he thought about his future. Especially the part where he was changing diapers and cleaning up vomit stains at the ripe age of 22. He really never considered having a family much, didn't see the need to have even more annoying members bothering him at all hours of the day. He got enough of that from his grandfather and his mother. Although for a short period of time in his late teens he did get a taste of what life he had always wanted. Unfortunately a great number of details from that point in time had been meticulously repressed for the sake of retaining his sanity. In that short time in Egypt, he though he had met the love of his life, only to have that ripped apart from him in a matter of seconds. The fact that it still affected him to this day said a lot about just how much his heart was capable of.
"Awww, my sweet princess, I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, time to leave daddy alone to his papers and get you a nice, yummy dinner~" Jotaro's wife cooed, taking baby Jolyne from his arms and setting her up in her high chair in the kitchen.
But even without him, he still managed to fall in love again with not one, but two wonderful people. A small smile found itself tugging on his lips as he sighed and rose to his feet.
'Might as well figure out what that phone call was about,' he thought to himself as he wandered to the telephone, begrudgingly calling back the last number and waited for the drone of the ring back tone.
"Yes, hello? Thank you so much for calling me back."
Jotaro was surprised when he didn't recognize the woman's voice on the phone, beginning to feel a little uneasy. "Who is this? What do you need?"
"Ah, yes, this is Noriko Kakyoin, Noriaki's mother." Jotaro nearly dropped the phone. "I wanted to call and let you know that he's actually awake and wants to meet with you... Are you available any time soon?"
Jotaro felt sick to his stomach as he gripped to the phone with his now sweaty hand. This had to be some kind of sick joke fate had played on him. Not now. This couldn't be happening.
"Hello?"
"Uh... You have the wrong number," was all he could muster through gritted teeth before he slammed down the ear piece onto it's receiver a lot harder than need be. This caught the attention of both his wife and daughter who both stopped what they were doing to stare at the now scowling man.
"What happened?" She asked meekly, her brows knitted in concern.
"Nothing."
"It couldn't have been nothing the way you reacted just now. Are you hiding something from m-"
"I said it was nothing you nosy bitch," Jotaro snapped, not realizing the words that were falling from his lips. When he did, it only pissed him off even more. Without speaking again, he turned on his heels and trudged back to his study, fists crammed into his pockets.
He was finally happy again. He was finally over all of this hurt and agony, only to have it be thrown back in his face again.
'Not now... Just not now...'