She woke up on cold, lumpy ground. Small rocks dug into her back and arms. The sky above her was blue and dotted with puffy white clouds. The air was cold and smelled liked dust and rain. She felt tired and stiff, as though she'd been asleep for centuries.
She closed her eyes, searching her memory to find her current whereabouts.
She couldn't.
She had no memory of falling asleep. In fact, she had no memories before falling asleep either. She only had the memory of waking up. Everything else was a complete blank.
Time passed. She didn't know how much. She didn't care. Time no longer meant anything. Nothing really mattered.
"Who am I?" she wondered aloud. She spoke in a voice she didn't recognize, a voice she didn't know.
The sky began to darken. More time had passed.
A voice spoke. It was not her voice. The voice was not connected to anything. It floated in the air above her, spoken words riding on the gentle, cool wind. When they finally reached her ears, she recognized that the voice was female, monotone, and somewhat high. "You cannot sleep here." it said. "You must rise and get to the dorms."
The words swam around in her head. They made sense as separate words, but they were lost as a sentence.
A face appeared; a face she assumed accompanied the voice she had heard. Long white hair shrouded a pale, girly face. Wide, silver eyes stared at her, lacking all emotions. She wore a school uniform, rather plain and tan but well kept. She had an armband around her upper right arm. It was pinned on and stood out on the pale fabric. "Please get up." the voice spoke again, words coming out in sync with the movement of her lips.
"Sorry!" Another voice spoke. It wasn't the white-haired girl's voice. It was a female voice, one that sounded very familiar. She felt the muscles in her face move. She had been the one who had spoken. The word had come out on its own, probably from some old habit.
She propped herself up on her elbow. She could see that the ground beneath her was gravel, rocks jutting out from the cold, dark surface. Magenta hair fell over her eyes, shrouding her vision in darkness. The darkness disappeared as she sat up, receding along with her hair.
She noticed she was wearing the same uniform as the white-haired girl. The only difference was the armband. Her uniform was missing the armband.
The white-haired girl was staring at her, a blank yet intimidating look on her face.
"Where am I?" Pushing her magenta hair further away from her face, she stood up. She looked around her.
To her right were stairs leading up to a large white building with many windows. Two wide glass doors adorned the middle of the bottom half of the building. The hallway connected to them was pitch black, shrouding the contents of the building in mystery.
To her left was a track field. Only two people remained, still running laps on the red lanes.
Behind her was a bridge, though she couldn't see what the bridge was connecting.
"This is a school. You should be in the dorms. Please go to the dorms." She still spoke in the same monotonous tone, never wavering in the slightest.
"Where are the dorms?"
The white-haired girl pointed to the large building with the glass doors. She didn't say anything more, merely walked off towards the track.
"Thanks for your help." The magenta-haired girl muttered under her breath, her words soaked in sarcasm.
She spent the next half hour trying to locate the Dorm Advisor's office to ask which room she was supposed to go to. As she was walking down one of the large, dimly lit hallways, she was so preoccupied with staring at the doors that she hadn't seen the pink-haired girl walked in the opposite direction, tuning her guitar.
They walked right into each other, neither of them realizing what had happened until they hit the ground. The pink-haired girl clung to her guitar, cushioning its fall.
"I'm sorry! I-I" the magenta girl stammered.
"It's fine; I should have been watching where I was going." Getting up, she examined her guitar, carefully turning it over to check for any scratches. She nodded to herself, slipping the wide leather strap over her shoulder. "I'm Iwasawa." She said, holding out her left hand. "And you are?"
"Yuri" was the answer. "Yuri Nakamura." The name felt familiar, the string of syllables forming easily in her mind. She had spoken those syllables many, many times. Those syllables formed her name. She didn't know how she had remembered her name when she had no memories, but she knew she was right. She shook hands with Iwasawa.
"Nice to meet you. You're new here, aren't you?" She smiled, strumming a chord on her guitar.
"How did you-" Yuri started.
"You're looking for the Dorm Advisor." She said. "Nobody walks these halls otherwise. This part of the building is pretty much abandoned." She looked up at the dim lighting as she spoke.
Yuri looked around. The hall didn't seem abandoned. The floor was clean and the walls were freshly painted a pretty lime green color. The doors were adorned with shining plates dictating the room numbers. Every door was made out of a deep, polished mahogany.
"Are you new too then?" Yuri asked, confusion plaguing her thoughts.
"Nah, I come here because these halls are the quietest. The residents in the rest of the dorms are too loud; it's hard to concentrate." She paused, glancing at Yuri. "The Dorm Advisor is gone by now; it's really late." She strummed her guitar again, reaching up to tune one of the strings as she spoke.
"Oh…"Yuri looked down, simultaneously disappointed and anxious. Where would she go?
She took a big step back, getting ready to leave when Iwasawa spoke again. "I have a spare bed in my room." She tuned another string. "My roommate…" she paused, trying to find the most accurate wording. A flash of sadness passed over her face. "…left recently." Yuri looked up at her. Their eyes met; Yuri's anxious and Iwasawa's calm and apathetic. "You can stay with me tonight." She finished her sentence with a nod.
Yuri bowed gratefully. "Thank you so much!" When she faced Iwasawa again, she only saw Iwasawa's back as she started walking away down the hall. Yuri quickly followed, running to catch up but staying one foot behind the guitarist as she walked.
Iwasawa's room was rather large, for a dorm room. There were two beds, pushed up against parallel walls. One was littered with items, from papers to books. Covers were pushed up against the wall that was crammed with pictures. Most of the pictures seemed to be album covers. In between the pictures were sheets of music scribbled in pen with lyrics and notes in the margins.
The other bed was neatly made with white sheets and a white pillow sitting at the head of the bed. It was clear that the bed had never been used. Everything was brand new. Yuri found this strange, but chose not to question it.
"That's your bed." Iwasawa said, pointing to the neat bed while sitting on the messy one. I hope you don't snore…" She said, raising an eyebrow at Yuri.
"I don't." Yuri assured, chuckling nervously. She closed the door behind her and took a few steps into the room. Anxiety knotted and unknotted her fingers. It kept her frozen in place, standing in the middle of the floor, on a dusty white carpet.
A searing pain suddenly erupted in the middle of her forehead. She lurched forward, holding her head with her right hand. The pain spread quickly, enveloping her head in a terrible throbbing she knew she had never experienced before. She felt her knees buckles and hit the ground as the room began spinning. She reached down with her free hand but missed the floor. Everything became dark.