The shadows stretched out around him. A flash of pink hair. Soft silky pink. He couldn't remember where the pink had come from. Pink, such a pretty colour, wonderfully, beautiful colour. Where had it come from?
Violet eyes, kind energetic eyes. Eyes that showed and enthusiastic soul. The soul person that was never sad. Eyes that could comfort even the coldest of souls, including his own.
He wished he could remember. Remember beyond the loud chaotic noises. The sudden fleeting pain.
A soft voice whispered to him. Tears, tears fell against his face. He was on the ground, was he on the ground? It was hard, whatever it was he was laying on, so it had to be the ground. If he was on the ground then he had to have been outside when the turmoil ensued.
If all that was true. Then why was he here now, floating in this fluffy, warm darkness?
"Yuki," the voice again, pink hair, violet eyes. He was going mad. 'Who was Yuki?' He pondered this new question for a long moment. The voice, who's ever it was did not sound like he remembered it. Before it had always been happy, full of life. Now it was sad. He wandered why? 'Why are you sad?'
Something washed over him, something hot, and disorientating. He relaxed allowing himself to tumble into the darkness, and he slept.