DayDreaming0f y0u: Well, hello, hello! Let me tell you it feels good to be back. I feel so accomplished. I wrote this whole chapter in one whole day! And thanks to kim-chan-sempai's advice, my OC's name is now changed. So Tanzuno, Tazula is no more. Her name is now Hidaka, Tazula. The second chapter should almost be done by the time this chapter is posted. I hope all of you like this and forgive me for rushing this (if it seems rush—because it does to me). I wanted to lay down the basics before jumping into the actually plot line! And a special thanks to my little sister, who got a laptop computer and now I don't have to wait for my brother to get off to type! Please enjoy.
Why We Don't Remember
Chapter One: What Happened Back Then
The video was full of static making it difficult to tell if there was any thing on the tape. Suddenly, a black line washed down the length of the screen and footage appeared.
The camera man looked as if he was paying attention more to the people on the screen than the recording device. The picture was moving a lot, but it was clear and the audio could be heard.
The little girl on the screen waved and appeared very cheerful in her Christmas nightgown.
"Alright Tazu," a merry female voice said, "open your last present." The camera quickly zoomed to the woman and then quickly back to the girl it was on before.
Tazula took the large rectangular wrapped box. She frowned and gently shook it, not wanting to break whatever contents it had, just merely wanting to listen. Her eyes found he tag and they grew wide. "It's from you guys?" She wasted no time and hastily ripped the package. "A tennis racquet?! Alright!" She stood up and gave a practiced forehand swing. "Now Ryoma doesn't stand a chance against me!"
"I doubt that," snorted a boy. The camera moved quickly to the entrance hall, but now the picture was upside down. The boy was younger by a year or two it appeared, but his ego seemed to by inflated by years.
"Nanjiro?" Tazula's mother got up from the floor and hugged the guest. "I didn't know you were coming."
The brown haired man shrugged. "Well, the kid woke up and there was nothing to do." He reached into his coat. "Also, we wanted to deliver these."
The man behind the camera left the camcorder and went to get his gift. "Aw, Nanjiro, you big softy." He patted the man in appreciation.
Tazula frowned and glanced toward the dining hall. On the table was Ryoma's present, but she wasn't sure she wanted to give it to him.
"Oh Nanjiro, it's beautiful!"
Nanjiro scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, your welcome, Izumi."
Izumi turned to her daughter while clasping the necklace around her neck. "Tazu, isn't there something you want to give Ryoma?" She raised an eyebrow and smiled.
The midnight haired girl crossed her arms (still holding her racquet) and turned her head away. "No!" She huffed.
Ryoma took out Tazula's present from his coat shrugged. "That's okay. Maybe I don't want to give you this." He waved it tauntingly in her face.
Tazula stiffened and abruptly turned towards the dining room, her racquet coming close to smacking her brother figure. "Fine!" She disappeared from the screen.
"Those kids," Mr. Hidaka muttered, shaking his head.
Nanjiro smiled, "So in love."
The three adults let out a long round of laughter.
Tazula finally came back on the footage, glaring at the older people. She handed, or more like thrusted, the gift to Ryoma. "Here."
The greenish-black haired boy took his gift and handed her the one he was holding. "Yeah, merry Christmas to you too."
Tazula plopped herself on the ground and laid her racquet across her legs. She slowly opened her gift and gasped. "Oh Ryoma, it's so cute!" She squealed, hugging the dog. She got up and planted a kiss the boy's cheek
Ryoma, however, frowned at the gift in his hand. It was a white cap. "Where'd you get this? The bottom of a trash can?" He put it on nonetheless.
Nanjiro smacked his forehead. That was his son.
A dog flew at the screen and the video became static again. A couple seconds passed before the picture came back and it was not a pretty sight.
"Ow!" Tazula yelled rubbing the back of her knee. She hit Ryoma's back with her racquet and he arched forward. "Don't slouch."
Ryoma's racquet hit both of her elbows in retaliation. "Space them out."
Tazula glared and automatically thwacked his head with her 'weapon'. "You dummy! You hit my funny nerve!" She rubbed her right elbow vigorously and stomped on his feet. "My last correction on your tennis stance is to stay on your toes!"
"Alright kids!" Izumi snapped before it could get too out of hand. "That's enough, you hear me?" She placed her hands on her hips and stared both kids down.
Tazula pouted. "But mommy! He started it!" She pointed an accusing finger at Ryoma, who glared, "Liar. You're the one who got mad."
Tazula gritted her teeth and got ready to swing her racquet when luckily her father intervened. "It's your fault!"
Ryoma stuck his tongue out causing Tazula to growl dangerously.
Mr. Hidaka pulled his daughter away from Ryoma more forcibly. "Nanjiro for goodness sake, grab your kid!"
Mr. Echizen nodded. "Right, sorry Daisuke." He shook his head disapprovingly at his son.
Izumi threw her hands up in the air. "I give up. These kids are going to be the death of each other, I swear." She sighed heavily and massaged her temples. Just move away from the problem. "Nanjiro, I don't suppose your hungry." The answer was an obvious one.
"Starving," the retired pro tennis player responded. An unspoken agreement between the fathers had him and Daisuke gently putting their kids down. He waited for a bomb to go off.
"Behave." Mr. Hidaka commanded.
Tazula let out a weary sigh and nodded. "Yes, daddy." Her eyes never left Ryoma however and she rose a challenging eyebrow, daring him to say something.
The battery symbol at the top right of the screen blinked red and the video went black. Just their luck, the rechargeable battery had sucked itself dry just when it was getting good. Which was fine, since there was nothing left to remember; it was all just a piece of filmed life. It meant nothing to her and she turned off the television.
Tazula sighed. That was one of the few surviving tapes (that she converted to DVD) from the incident, but all it was to her was a movie. She didn't remember any of that, or that boy who seemed to get under her skin. Her mind just didn't click when she tried to picture this Ryoma. It only caused her a headache and that was the last thing she needed. But then why did she so badly want to read what he father wrote about her misfortune when that too caused a headache?
"Tazula, I am truly sorry I cannot accompany you on this trip. I feel really bad, honestly." The man clad in formal business attire said. He checked his watch. "I have too many things to do here, but I promise you that once I get everything in order here, I will be on my own flight to Japan."
The fourteen year old shook her head and got up. "No, it's alright Mr. Nulty. I can manage on my own." She took both of her suitcases just to prove her point. She had been taking care of herself since that awful day. "I've got my ticket and everything. So don't worry, take your time. I was born in Japan after all, so I won't attract any unwanted attention by being by myself."
The graying man shook his head and ran a hand down his face. "I still don't like the idea of you traveling across the world by yourself without any supervision. And not to mention when you get there. You don't have any money or know where your caretaker is." He began to doubt the idea of sending her to her home country.
Tazula gave him a reassuring smile. "I can speak Japanese fluently, so if I run into any trouble, I'll ask for help. I don't mind asking for help. And I have an idea where Suzumi could be. It won't be that hard. Really, you don't know Japan like I do." So now she was lying through her teeth. Well, at least partly. True, she did speak Japanese fluently and she did have an idea of where she could find her mom's cousin, but if truth be told: (1)she hated asking for help—it did her no good and (2) she didn't know diddly-squat about Japan. She was like what, six when they left?
Mr. Nulty let out a long breath like he was puffing cigarettes, a habit he kicked a long time ago, and nodded. "Once you get an address, email it to me. That way I can send the paperwork to a social worker over there."
Tazula nodded. "The minute I find a computer with internet." She bowed in respect. "Sorry, I have to get use to that."
Mr. Nulty shook his head. "Quite fine. No need for apologize." He paused when her gate was called over the intercom. "Well, it seems as if our time is over. Here are the basic things you will need to present to your caretaker." He handed her a large envelope and quickly dismissed. "Don't want to miss your flight."
Tazula wanted to glare at the man. She had to put the papers away in her backpack in a way that they wouldn't be crinkled, put her portable DVD player back, adjust the weight of her two suitcases, and get her ticket out. She didn't bother looking back; it wasn't as if she would be able to come back. There was no longer any reason to hold her to America. She took out a small journal along with her ticket. This would preoccupy her during the whole trip, that she was definitely sure of.
"Are you going to need anything miss?"
Tazula smiled at the Flight Attendant and shook her head. "Not thanks, I'm good." She slipped on the headphones—the best assurance that she wouldn't be disturbed—which had no music attachment and opened the worn journal. She was careful to turn the pages as she began reading, she couldn't remember how old the thing was. Then her thought process stopped and she frown. It would help if she knew what led up to the events to cause the story within the sheets of the book.
The young girl cringed, cowering behind her mother-like figure as she watched hail and rail mercilessly pummel the ground. She felt horrible for those stuck out there in the treacherous storm that would soon become a tornado. The storm had come out of nowhere, completely without warning, that panic and fear were the people's only emotions. Which is exactly what struck her that moment.
Ten year old Tazula tore her periwinkle eyes away from the opened door and let them roam around the underground safety shelter. Terror tugged at her heart and her stomach began to feel sickly when she failed to see a certain dark haired boy. She didn't want' to jump to any conclusions—she was already frantic enough, her mind working almost in overdrive—but it was difficult for her not to. "Ryoma?" she whispered. "Suzu, where's Ryoma?"
The cobalt haired lady looked at her charge with a confused look. If the young girl was joking, she didn't find it funny; however, if the kid was trying to scare her, she was doing a hell of a job. Her heart sunk like a rock to stomach when she saw the little boy missing. "Tazu, kid, it's not funny."
Tazula wasn't looking at her anymore. "Ryoma!" She watched, horrified, as the said boy made his way to her abandoned house. "Come back!" Lightning streaked the black sky and thunder drowned out her cries. The fierce winds carried her voice away.
Tazula stuck her head out to look at the land and her eyes became saucers. The tornado was massive and it was spiraling their way. Her heart raced, no longer beat rhythmically, and she was on the fritz. "RYOMA! RYOMA ECHIZEN! COME BACK!" She gripped the door, breathing heavily, and gave one firm nod to self-assure herself. It was now or never.
"What do you think you're doing?" Suzumi asked.
"It's my fault he's out there!" But why? Tazula took her arm back and took a few steps backward, towards the door. "If I do nothing, he's going to die!" And she bolted outside. For a second, she felt out of place—in a different reality. The hail were like bullets and the rain obscured her vision. The wind howled and it was all she could hear.
Tazula slipped, trying to gain some footing on the muddy ground. Her hair smacked her face and she ran a slugged hand through her dark locks. She could see him just up ahead. "RYOMA!"
Finally the boy turned around. Fear crossed his face. He wasted no time in turning back and heading her way. That made Tazula smile, but it disappeared when he lunged at her.
"Ryoma, what--?" Her breath caught when she landed on her shoulder. Pain pulsated her body and she instinctively put her hands to the back of her neck as she and Ryoma rolled down into a ditch.
The tornado hit. Debris like concrete, wood, wire fences, and metal parts of houses and cars managed to get thrown in the ditch. Tazula flinched and hugged Ryoma's head protectively when a broken, splintered wood fragment sliced her forehead. Things crashed around their bodies and they squeezed their eyes shut. Concrete chunks flew and one slammed into her already bruised shoulder.
Tazula gritted her teeth at the pain that sent an explosion of fireworks behind her eyelids. She peeked and saw Ryoma with his hands pressed to his face. She opened her mouth to comfort him or at the very least say something when her vision suddenly went black and she fell limp.
Periwinkle eyes popped opened and Tazula let out a deep breath. She groaned as her head began to pound. Why did this always happen? She had this strange feeling deep within her chest and it caused her fingertips to tingle. She put her face into her hands. The pages of the notebook moved under her elbows and she pulled up. Was she still in the mood to read?
"Would you like anything?"
Tazula blinked and looked at the Flight Attendant. "Do you have any aspirin?" She croaked.
The lady smiled lightly. "Of course. Feeling a bit light-headed?"
Tazula snorted and gratefully took the pills. "If you want to describe it like that." She dry swallowed, knowing that cold water would only cause her more pain. "Thank you." She closed her eyes and relaxed. Yeah, she was still in the mood to read. Her mind was already recalling the words she had read so often. She knew them by heart and the picture played out in her mind every time she read the story. It was funny, all the words were to her was a story, but in truth, it was a part of her past. It was something that actually happened to her. She sighed, her dad had a memory that was far superior than any thing that was recorded.
The only thing wrong was that her dad had to be there to witness it all, or he couldn't tell you a single thing. Tazula scowled and that was what was exactly wrong with the picture. From the natural disaster that happened to her to the day her parents arrived was all a huge gaping hole. Her father hadn't been there, so he couldn't have written it down for her before he died.
Tazula shook her head. She was getting repetitive again.
June 5th;Summer
Our plane landed and we couldn't have been happier. I wasn't a big fan of leaving the state or Tazula. It helped calm my nerves that Suzumi was there to take care of Tazula and Ryoma, if he went over. I couldn't believe my eyes when we drove up to the house. What the hell happened while we were away?
Suzumi quickly explained, "Dai, Izu, there's nothing to worry about. Just turns out there was a small tornado. The kids and I hid in the shelter until it was safe enough to come out. I spent some time helping the neighbors while the kids entertained themselves playing tennis." She smiled and I felt calm.
Izumi, however, wanted to know how Tazula got a cut across her head. And along came an interesting story. It didn't surprise me when I learned the truth.
Suzumi left a week later and Tazula began to act strangely. She would complain about performing tasks that required both of her hands. "Mommy, I don't want to! It's too much work."
I even observed her playing tennis with her left hand. It wasn't too weird because like Ryoma, Tazula yearned to become ambidextrous. And Ryoma would have trouble remembering conversations for a while. It seemed as if the kids had a disease. Then it finally happened. We ended up taking Tazula to the hospital.
"Daddy! Mommy!" Tazula was crying so hard and she was having trouble breathing. Her hand held so tightly to her right arm as if it would fall off. "It hurts! I . . . I can't feel it." Tears just fell down her face. She had to have several operations and we took Ryoma to get a check up as well.
"What the hell were you thinking in letting my boy go out there?!" Nanjiro was beyond furious and I didn't blame him one bit. Ryoma seemed unfazed.
"I'm fine. Just a bump on the head, nothing more." Yeah right, nothing more. His traumatic experience with this would cause his brain to come up with a defensive mechanism—the most common being a sort of amnesia. He could very well forget us all, the doctor said. And that would break Tazula's heart.
"We had to pop her shoulder back in place," Dr. Summers told us. "And once the humerous begins to heal we will perform the second operation and stitch her bicep muscle back together. After that, we will attempt to reconnect some of the nerve endings she tore."
Her whole arm had been damaged. I didn't want to blame her. I wanted to praise Tazula for being so brave to not admit any pain, but she had been careless. Luckily, everything went fine. That is until Tazula asked us about Ryoma. It had been a month—all most two—since her natural disaster accident.
Tazula yawned and looked around the room. "Where's Ryoma," she asked my wife, still drowsy from her medication.
Izumi got up from the loveseat we shared turns on. She stretched her stiff muscles, allowing them to pop like they always do, and smiled at our little girl. "Good morning sunshine, how do you feel?"
Knowing Tazula, she probably frowned. She didn't take a liking to not getting her question answered. "Icky," she replied nonetheless, always answering questions. "Mommy, where's Ryoma and Mr. Echizen?"
I then came into the room and interrupted. "Oh, she's up!" I kissed her on the forehead, feeling better than ever. "Do you feel any better? Izumi, we should tell the doctor."
"Hi, daddy," Tazula greeted me quietly. She must not be feeling that much better. My poor girl. "Do you know where Ryome is? Did he go home to sleep?"
I froze and looked over to Izumi. I knew she wanted to wait until Tazula could handle the information, but I didn't think she could take the suspense. My daughter had no idea that her best friend had been taken away by his father and they were moving away. Then again, I didn't know at the time either. "Izumi?"
"No," she said sternly, "first thing's first. Go get the doctor. I need some coffee." I followed her out the door and went to go get Dr. Summers. Tazula probably didn't even remember the last time Ryoma came to see her. She probably didn't even know what today was.
"So how is your arm, Tazula?" Dr. Summers asked her calmly. He began his routine check. "Your fever's gone. Did you notice?" He massaged her fingers gently and worked his way up to her shoulder, all the while asking: "Can you feel this?"
Tazula nodded and I thought I was going to faint. Her operations were a success! "Does that mean my arm's okay?"
Dr. Summers smiled. "Yes. I'm going to have to run a few X-rays to make sure everything has healed the way it should and you might very well be on your way home tomorrow."
"So that's it?" Tazula asked him with a smile on her face. I knew she was itching to interrogate the both of us once the doctor left. "I won't have to stay here any longer?"
Dr. Summers laughed. "Getting tired of us, already?" he feigned a heart pain. "Oh, Tazula, that hurts a lot. After everything we've done for you. I think I might have to kick you out so I can take your bed."
The air felt so much lighter. We were all smiling, even as Dr. Summers pulled Izumi and I out of the room. He said that there was nothing to worry about and that unless her x-rays showed something, that she would be able to come home. Her x-rays showed nothing, but then again, they weren't looking in the right place. Tazula woke up screaming the next morning.
Tazula closed the journal. She didn't need to read anymore. She knew what happened after that. Her memory was especially vivid when she recalled the event that took place when she got home from the hospital. She sighed and looked out the window. The plane was already landing. Her heart gave a tug. This was it.
DayDreaming: Well, that was pretty quick, wasn't it? Please review. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and I get so inspired! =^.^=