Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, just my OC.
1
The frigid air burned their nostrils as they inhaled it. Their exhale brought out a stifling air that caused a distinct burning sensation. Dull, wine-coloured eyes stared ahead at a white ceiling. The walls weren't much better, and white blinds covered the only window. They looked to the side in contemplation.
Where am I?
The owner of the eyes didn't find an answer to that single query. Their mind was fuzzy, and their body was numb. They tried to flex their fingers, but nothing happened. Their eyes moved side to side in confusion and curiosity. They stopped at the ceiling again, their eyes narrowing.
Why can't I move?
An attempt to move again happened, but their body wasn't cooperating. They could not feel their legs, they already knew that moving their arms was impossible. Alarm set in. They didn't like not being able to move. The less attention placed on their amnesia, the better. That they seemed paralyzed was a more pressing matter.
Who's in the room with me?
There was a distinct feeling of someone watching them. They wildly looked around in panic as they tried to pinpoint the source of the feeling. No one was around. They were completely alone, from what they could see. A wince formed on their face as a high-pitched ringing sound began in their right ear. The sensation of flames licking their skin appeared, and they clenched their jaw.
A car bomb? No, this was something else. What else could cause the body so much damage? A car accident?
They supposed that might be closer to what happened to them. But they couldn't help but wonder why that felt so wrong. A long piece of greasy raven hair fell into the edge of their vision, and panic slowly gave way to annoyance. They wanted to move their hair away from their face. They felt their fingers twitch with their mounting annoyance.
I can't believe I had a heart attack at such an early age.
Heart attack? That sounded wrong. A frown of thought appeared on their face before vanishing. The feeling of being watched came back. They could feel the dryness of their mouth. It was wrong. They could taste the black cherry drink they'd been drinking for the past hour. That was also wrong. They looked at their hospital room. Something had happened to them. They had no clue what.
"Oh, you're finally awake." A kind voice got their attention.
An older woman with cropped black hair stepped up to them, and they looked over her shoulder at a fuzzy shape. There was something accompanying her, something they couldn't quite make out. It made them see things in pairs, and they tried to stop focusing as they moved their arms.
"You suffered a heart attack while driving," The woman informed them and their attention snapped to her, "I'm surprised it happened after your hearing, it cleared you of your crimes."
Crimes? Heart attack? It sounds familiar.
It sounded far too familiar to their liking. They made a face while pulled into a sitting position, and a white hospital gown filled their vision. They could feel something being peeled back from their skin and a crawling sensation crossed the affected area.
"Chibana-san, is this causing you distress?" The woman questioned them.
Chibana, the characters for a thousand blossoms?
It was a struggle to shake their head. They could deal with the odd pulling sensations as the woman cleaned whatever wounds were on their back. They didn't know the extent of the damage done to them. She pulled the gown back down, and they found themselves laid on a mountain of pillows. They could see more of the room now. The woman read a chart, ignoring the eyes watching her, and checked several vitals before writing the information down.
"Would you like to know what you look like after the accident, Chibana-san?" The woman questioned them.
A slight grunt was the answer, and the woman went and pulled out a mirror. They felt surprised at what they looked like, but they didn't. A woman with long inky hair stared at them with wine-coloured eyes. That felt right. Yellowing bruises and healing cuts littered ghostly pale skin. She looked over at the woman and watched as she waited for her expression to change. She went back to her reflection and kept her blank face.
She looks wrong; the gender is right. Yet, the nationality and body type was wrong.
That was right. She knew that there was something off with her reflection. She had that strange sensation of her sight being split in two. A secondary reflection appeared in her split vision. It was the one that felt right. Mahogany brown hair that was styled in a masculine style, pale skin that had a slight tan to it, and masculine features. It was a departure from the feminine features that stared back at her.
Her vision returned to normal, and she noticed that they had put away the mirror. They left her alone as the nurse went to take care of her other patients. She looked around the room. The feeling of being watched never truly went away. She paused when she caught sight of the security camera. Could that be the reason she felt like someone was watching her? It seemed plausible. Her fingers twitched in thought, and she looked down at them. It was annoying being unable to move her body the way she would like to.
Did I die?
That sudden thought rattled around in her head, and she stopped breathing for a few minutes. Would that be one of the few things she questioned? Death was a construct, a state of being, that the human mind had trouble wrapping itself around. She couldn't fathom that she might've died. Yet, didn't the woman comment that she had a heart attack? She took in a deep breath and tried to calm down. Panicking over something that was no longer relevant was going to make it impossible to think.
Heart attack or drowning. Why is it I think of both? Isekai, perhaps.
Isekai. That was a manga and anime genre, one dealing with travelling from one world to another. From the known to the unknown. That wasn't workable, and she knew that. Yet, her mind was grasping at that as a potential answer to why she felt disoriented. Why her reflection seemed wrong. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to ponder it.
All right, she tried to believe that she had somehow pulled an Isekai. It would explain why she was so confused. She responded to the name the nurse had called her, yet it was unfamiliar to her. She would have to see what happens, but she also needed more information. If she were to ask for information about herself, that could arouse suspicion. She needed to get a doctor to observe her and diagnose her with amnesia. In a perfect world that would work, but she felt it wouldn't be. There was no such thing as a perfect world.
"Oh, why don't I turn on the TV for you, dear," An elderly voice said.
She opened her eyes to see an old woman wearing a nurse's uniform. The old woman had long white hair in a tight bun and a kind, lined face held a smile. She turned on the TV and she gave the remote to her so she could change the channel or power it on or off without the help of a nurse. It took a while for her to move her fingers enough to get it off the drama channel. Hideki Ryuga, as pretty as he was, wasn't a talented actor in her opinion. She flipped through the channels with a bored expression and stopped at a news station.
"This is Takeba Mina, reporting the eleven o'clock news," A fashionable woman with inky hair, styled and paired with her clothing, "Today there have been several criminals, or people with pending trials, who have died from a heart attack."
She paused on that channel, and her dry, cracked lips parted. Heart Attack? That was too specific and too unlikely. It was improbable for so many people to have a heart attack on the same day. She sat up straighter in the bed and watched the TV with an intensity that she probably shouldn't have. Pending trials, that's what caught her attention. If this was the work of some otherworldly power, and she wasn't even sure that she believed in that observation, then someone was playing the role of judge and executioner. They had acquitted her in her trial, and yet the person decided she wasn't.
Who gave them the right? I'll hunt them down for this.
Her hands slowly clenched into fists, and she soon felt something wet going down her palms. She looked down to see what had happened; she had clenched her fists until her nails had dug into her flesh. Her hands relaxed for a few seconds, and her attention turned to the TV. The news was aimless after that, and she frowned in annoyance. She changed the channel onto Sakura TV. There she ended up learning a bit more about what was going on.
Kira, huh? Why did that sound so familiar?
Isekai, that was sounding more plausible the longer she watched the station. A quiet sigh passed through her lips as she looked around for a clock. She didn't know if it was morning or night, and she'd liked to. She squinted slightly at the clock on the furthest wall. The blurry letters looked like they said P.M. It was difficult for her to know.
"Squinting like that will give you wrinkles," A voice croaked next to her.
Her eyes widened slightly, and she looked to her left, where it had come from. A man wearing a hospital gown was sitting on her bed with a smirk on his face. She felt a shiver go down her spine. There was something wrong with the man. He waited for a few seconds before his smirk fell.
"Figures, you can't see me either," He muttered, his voice still croaky.
She rolled her tongue around in her mouth and tried to form some words. Nothing about her body was working correctly. She could barely use her hands as it was. She felt frustrated but kept it off her face. Instead, she allowed a deadpan to be sent towards the man. He blinked at that before his expression lightened.
"You can see me!" He exclaimed, and she gained an annoyed expression.
She had perfectly timed it alongside a commercial with a blonde girl named Misa. She couldn't help but find the high-pitched voice grating, and she wondered if that was her authentic voice. Very few people had that as their authentic voice. Even then, it sounded better than what was screeching on the TV.
"Are you the one that died and was brought back?" He questioned as he moved to be in her line of sight, "Because if you are you should be able to help me."
Help him? How the hell am I supposed to do that if I can't help myself. With this Kira person around, I'll barely be able to move around. It's too complicated. Too convoluted.
She hated how complicated it was getting. She really needed some information. The man bounced in place, and it caused the bed to move. She slowly grew nauseous from the movement and closed her eyes as she tried to ignore the pain in her stomach. She shot him an annoyed look upon opening her eyes again.
"Well, in theory, someone like you can be helpful," He muttered. "People who see spirits can choose to help us, or ignore us."
She must've looked confused because he tilted his head in thought. He remained quiet as a nurse came into the room and checked her vitals again. This one was a male and seemed to be at the end of his shift. His bedside manner was lacking, but she enjoyed the lack of false conversation. She was one of the few people who didn't live off false kindness and pretence.
"You really have no clue who you are," The man muttered as they both watched the nurse, "yet, you're lucid and replying like someone who does. How interesting."
Interesting? No, it's more like a survival instinct.
She didn't want to be caught unawares. She crept her arm across the mattress and watched the movement. Sweat was trickling down her face as she forcibly moved her body. The longer she was awake, the more she could move. She sat up straighter and let out a quiet sigh of relief at the change of position. She enjoyed sitting up straight compared to being slouched.
"You can't talk yet," The man said as he pushed his arm through the wall in a bored manner. "I can only imagine what your first words will be."
The more she pushed her body to move, the more it worked. She forcibly tried to speak for a few seconds before frowning in annoyance. That feeling of being watched stopped, and she turned her head to face the man. She could speak. She just needed to force the words out.
"Shut the fuck up," She hissed.
The voice wasn't right either.
"Okay, not what I imagined," The man said with a slight pout, "but at least you've got guts."
How annoying.
She looked back at the TV and ignored the man. He was spouting information out in a way to get her attention back. Oh, she heard the information but refused to look at him again. She didn't have time for ghosts. It also bothered her she'd be able to see the dead. She herself had been dead, right? The dead needed to stay dead, but some upper power decided that she shouldn't.
"You should go to sleep, Chibana-san," A doctor sighed as he entered the room with another doctor.
"Everyone keeps saying that name, but I have no clue who they're talking about," She whispered. It was a ploy.
She needed to be diagnosed with amnesia. It would give her leeway when she said something that was wrong or remembered nothing. She watched as the Doctor paused at her words before starting a test. They asked what she remembered and what she didn't. They even set up an appointment with a psychiatrist later that day. She relaxed once they left. There was her leeway. People were sometimes easy to manoeuvre for what she wanted them to do. She felt guilty when she allowed herself to. It wasn't always something she could.
The day went by slowly, and she was awake every minute. If she scared the nurses and doctors with her sudden intensity, then she was none the wiser. She wasn't about to let them know she was aware of their discomfort. Her hands found a place on her forearms, and she slowly scratched at the skin as she pondered her situation even further. Her little ghostly visitor left her alone after an hour of being ignored. She could focus on her thoughts without the unneeded noise.
"So, I hear you are having trouble remembering anything, Chibana-san," The psychiatrist stated as she took a seat next to the bed. "Memory complications can happen because of traumatic events."
The Japanese don't take mental health seriously, this person is European. Was she hired by someone else? Who would hire a psychiatrist for me? I don't get it.
"Are you having trouble concentrating?" The Psychiatrist asked.
"No, just thinking," She quietly answered.
"What are you having trouble remembering?"
"Everything."
That got the Psychiatrist's attention. The woman peered at her from behind wire-framed glasses. The deep brown eyes held a spark of intrigue and she felt her body react. She was just as intense as she was. It was impressive, but she wisely held her tongue and kept her expression blank. She didn't want too much information getting back to whoever this woman worked for. She would quietly answer all questions posed to her; some were quite easy to answer.
She didn't know about her birthday or that her first name was Mizuki. Her schools were just as unknown. It got difficult when general knowledge bled into the questions. She had to think of how she should word things. She didn't want to show that she was smarter than she wanted people to perceive of her. The more that people underestimated her, the better.
She was left alone with her thoughts when the Psychiatrist left her. She closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep, if she didn't then she'd be diagnosed with insomnia. She didn't need that diagnosis, though she was sure it was something she had. Sleep didn't come easily, it felt like something that would out of her reach.
Her days were filled with being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses. She was able to get the date out of them. It was a month before Christmas. She could tell that it wasn't a celebrated holiday by the way that the nurses talked about it. They mainly complained about Last Christmas by Wham. She was just glad she wasn't going to hear All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey. It would be too soon if she heard that damn song.
The anger of someone who worked retail is so strong that it appears even when I can't remember anything.
She'd be amused by that fact if it wasn't so true. She felt as though if a retail worker was to be reincarnated then they'd still have that deep-set hatred of that one song. It was spiritual at this point. It didn't take much for someone to believe in the spiritual. She was starting to believe due to the number of people she saw walking around the hospital trying to get the attention of the nurses and doctors. It was like they couldn't be heard. She couldn't imagine existing like that.
It seemed lonely.