Disclaimer: I do not own K nor the characters. Unbeta.
Amnesia
::Chapter 1::
That day, Yata woke up feeling something was utterly amiss, the kind that you can't really put a finger to it.
Yata got up groggily and rubbed the sleep from his eye. In his languid state he scanned the room; it was easily twice the size of his own, furnished and well-kept. Surprisingly, he was calm given the fact that he had just roused from sleep in an unfamiliar bed and didn't immediately went into frenzy like any sane person would. Then again, it could be the remaining sleep doing its charm.
Stifling a yawn Yata blinked away the last of the fuzziness from his vision. Strange, he thought. Confused that he had not woken up in the bed but on the mattress beside it. He tugged away his blanket and stood up, hovering over the teal bunk beside the mattress and ran his hand across it: warm.
Somebody else had been sleeping in it until moments ago.
Yata flinched, cold beads trickling down his spine. Only now did his predicament registered in his dense head. He was in a room which he has no recognition of, nothing to protect himself with and for some reason, no memories. He darted around the room, turning everything upside down like all hell broke loose, scavenging for any clues. Meanwhile, his mind didn't help in any bit, going bonkers over the mountain pile of questions that lead him to where he is now.
Yata felt like punching himself for not sprinting out of the door the instant he woke up. Still, that would be unwise if someone was anticipating him. He figure it might not be a good idea to leave the room before he made sure no one was outside waiting for him. However he had no grounds, it could be that the person -whoever it was- has already left the house, fully vacated, meaning it would be a walk in the park to escape from here and back to the comfort of his home. Fat chance, Yata huffed, ruffling his chestnut hair in frustration in the middle of the chaos, his scavenging had prove a futile attempt.
Argh! How the hell did I end up here? I can't remember anything.
Yesterday was a school day and he went to school as per normal but he couldn't recall anything else however hard he tried, who was with him, what did he do? Heck, he can't even remember any name of his friends, presuming he had some. The only thing he could remember was his name, his family and the fact that he is a middle schooler. It is save to say that he was not attacked since his head did not ached, neither was he injured anywhere.
Then what the hell is going on?
Right now escaping comes first, leave the question of his existential crisis for later. After a few minutes of attempting a strategic escape, Yata's brain short-circuited. Thinking wasn't his forte to being with. Betting on the chance that someone is probably going to come back to this room, he plans an ambush. His critical side immediately retorted, what if it wasn't just one person, what if the person is armed, what if...
Just then, he heard it; the footsteps slowly ascending stairs and nearing the room. It was just too suddenly, spare him some forewarning for Pete's sake! As if a switch has been flipped, his anxiety went up another notch. After locking the door, Yata made a frantic search for something, anything that would suffice as a weapon, further wrecking the room in the process.
Calm down, he coaxed himself, his hand trembling like a leaf. If worse come to worse, at least he has an unknown confidence that he would not go down easily in a fight. Yata reached into a drawer and fumbled, spilling its contents without a thought and grabbed a pen knife. Would it help? Honestly, he hasn't had a clue but desperate times call for desperate measures.
As soon as the person shows any sign of malice upon entering, Yata mentally vouch as he got into stance, hiding in a blind spot from the door.
He heard as far as the doorknob rattling, a soft click of tongue and the fumbling of the keys before he let himself got distracted. On the floor, a few feet from him was a picture -probably fallen out when he was manhandling the drawer earlier- of him and a boy with pale skin and blue hair.
Me and...
Yata froze when he felt another presence entered the room, a silvery voice broke his trance. The intruder looks identical to the one in the picture.
Who?
"Oi Misaki, I brought breakfast so its about time you wake up and get-"
The person stop speaking like a deer caught in the headlights when he noticed the mess, any trace of his formerly neat and tidy room gone. His face was masked with an expression of confusion. Yata had a hard time determining whether the person poses any threat to him. Fortunately the stranger seem around his age and weak enough with his pale complex.
"Who the fuck are you?" Yata took this chance to inquire as he move from his hiding spot, his hand on the pen knife as if gripping his lifeline.
His grip on his weapon tightened as he direct it towards the intruder. There was a pregnant silence where neither of them said anything. Yata tried his best to come off as intimidating yet he was startled when the bag that was in the hand of the stranger slipped and fell to the carpeted floor, the take-outs neglected and started turning cold.
"Ah?" When the stranger finally spoke, he voice was laced with anger. "Is this some kind of joke, Misaki?" Obviously not pleased at the state of his room, the stranger uttered, venom dripping from his tone while he moved a few steps closer.
"Don't fucking move! Who the hell are you and why do you know my name?" Yata glared daggers. No way is he going to get daunted by the guy, he is going to make him answer his questions even if it means forcing it out of him.
"Yata...Wha-" Seeing that it was not just a bad joke afterall, the guy proceeded cautiously, his words losing its edge before Yata cut him off midway.
"Who are you?" Yata yelled, all the while boring holes at the stranger's face and brandishing his weapon dangerously.
The guy fell silence as if contemplating his answer before it came out uncomfortable and awkward as it seems, "Fushimi... Saruhiko."
Yata was pleased that Fushimi seems to be succumbing to his threats, "Who are you to me?"
"Gross. What are you asking?" Fushimi didn't beat around the bushes answering Yata's question this time, it came out flat and appalled.
Scratch "succumbing to his threats" this guy is an asshole!
"S-s-shut your trap! Just answer the damn question." Yata stuttered, the pink blush on his cheek gave him up, looks like it was quite embarrassing to ask such a question for him as well.
"... Your friend." Now it was Fushimi's turn to look annoyed as he clicked his tongue before answering.
"Huh? Really?" His pretense cracked upon hearing Fushimi's answer. Yata had not expected that, he was friend with this asshole? Well, he did know his name. No no no! He shouldn't be letting his guard down, that bastard might be lying if Yata knew better.
"Annnd for your information, I am not lying." Just as if he was reading Yata's mind, Fushimi slurred, claiming his own innocence.
"W-what? How did you-!" Yata gaped, bewildered that Fushimi had read his thought.
"Please, you are an open book. Even a five years old could tell what are you thinking since you seems to wear your heart on the sleeves, like an idiot." Sighing, Fushimi retorted calmly though he muttered the last part under his breath.
"T-then do you have any prove?" At this point, the strong front Yata desperately tried to put up had reduce to pieces. Now he is merely grasping at straws.
Fushimi cocked his eyebrow as if he had been asked a meaningless question, with a sharp inhale, he chanted as a-matter-of-a-factly, "Yata Misaki, born on July 20, Cancer, blood type B, hopeless with studies but uselessly athletic, best subject Physical Education, worse subject English, hates milk, hot-headed, an idiot, shy virgin, likes games, an idiot..."
"Oi! I get it already! Stop- and don't say idiot twice!" Yata fumed childishly as he stomp his foot meanwhile Fushimi simply shrugged and move to start tidying his wreck of a room.
"Now that you believe me, what is going on?" Fushimi asked, not sparing a glance at Yata as he put away the scattered papers, it wasn't long before Yata dropped the pen knife and help out since it was his fault the room turned out a mess.
"I... I lost my memories." Yata answered hesitantly, not wanting to show any vulnerability but at the same time hoping that Fushimi could do something about it since it is certain that they are acquaintance.
Yata wasn't expecting Fushimi's reaction since he seemed so cool and calm; Fushimi dropped whatever he was holding, his voice an octave higher and almost cracking, "Huh!?"
Author Note: There! First chapter of the Amnesia series done. All reviews, favourites and follows will be greatly appreciated. Please let me know how was the first chapter so that I can strive to bring a better update. Honestly, I have only written the first chapter on a vague idea, I have zero plans of the following chapters hence I would need your cooperation, I would need your opinions for references.
If you enjoy this story you might like my other Sarumi story, Of which bonds are thicker than blood.
-I will sell my soul for Sarumi to be canon