A/n: I've already had someone ask who Alice was. Alice is the English
version of Arisu's name, It's used in the English version of Lain, as well
as some of the translations.
=-=-=-=-=
The house was dark and silent, run-down and destroyed. Nobody could remember a time it hadn't been. Nobody really cared, either, as typical in the introverted suburbs. A tall girl walked by every few days, gazing silently at the empty shell, trying to remember it whole. That girl grew older, taller, smarter, and stopped walking by after several years. She graduated from a university and became a teacher. But one summer, visiting home, her feet took her back to the old house. Finally, curiosity—and something more, perhaps—beckoned her up the walkway. The lawn was dark and tangled, the gate rusty. The old sign read "Iwakura". She pushed open the gate with a little force, and made her way up the crumbling cement stairs. The walls of the house were covered in graffiti, and a bunch of wires and hoses protruded from a torn hole next to a blown-out bay window. A stuffed animal was visible amidst the broken glass still scattered on the walkway. It looked as if it had happened hours before, but it had always been that way.
The front door was open. Not just a crack, it was wide open. The dark- haired girl gingerly stepped over an old tipped coat rack and through the entrance. A pair of small teddy bear slippers were tucked away in a corner, and a dusty pair of school uniform shoes were on the grimy mat. The girl stopped to remove her flats and put them next to the dusty pair. The hallway was covered in dirt and dust, decaying leaves and old weeds scattered in the corners. There was a flight of stairs straight ahead, and oddly, old boards were nailed to the entrance of the only other corridor. She picked her way up the stairs slowly. There were not footprints on the floor, the thick dust fluttering around her feet for the first time in years. The girl's feet made their way around clothes and broken dishes on the treads, though she did not see them. Her breathing quickened, her heart raced, and, fighting through the cobwebbed hall, reached the door. She didn't understand why she chose the door—rather, her feet chose the door for her. There were other doors besides this one. Why not one of them? She wanted so desperately to turn away, but before she could convince her feet to move, the door opened silently, without any movement on her part. A dark room full of monitors and wires and coolant systems hummed softly. The girl's feet took over again, stepping over the threshold. Her socks met a thin layer of water, and she tensed in shock. Her feet took another step. The door closed behind her.
It was so familiar; the entire situation seemed a repeat of something else. That girl had to be somewhere—she stopped herself. What girl? What girl was she thinking of? But a small and very insistent thought told her the girl was around. Without realizing it, she found her way to the old dusty chair, and she sat. The Navi flickered on, and the only thing on the screen frightened the girl.
Hello, Alice. I wondered when you'd come to see me.
"Lain?" Alice gasped. The unfamiliar name tasted bitter on her tongue. The text on the screen changed.
Yes, I'm Lain, but I suppose my name is the only thing you can remember. I loved you, Alice.
"Who are you?" Alice cried. "What do you want from me?"
"Myself." A very real, very shy voice registered in Alice's mind. She knew that voice... She turned, and behind her a small girl of thirteen, looking much younger in a teddy bear suit, stood. Her dark brown-red hair was cut neck short with a shoulder length lock tied over the girl's left ear. Alice recognized her at once.
"Lain! What has happened? Why—"Alice stopped, confused. She could remember this girl, her friend—but yet she couldn't figure out how she'd known her. She only had the memory that they had once been friends, endured terrible things together, but there was no world with Lain in her memory.
"Don't worry, Alice." The child's golden-brown eyes looked deep into Alice's black ones. "You should not have to remember. Why are you here?"
"To see." Alice responded, knowing it sounded stupid, but it was the truth. "How long have you been here?"
"Forever." Lain smiled, head tilting to one side, a dingy ray of sun catching on her face through the broken window. Alice remembered that smile, but couldn't place when.
"Why can't I remember you?" She cried angrily.
"I deleted myself from your memory—from everyone's memory."
"But then why CAN I remember you? A childhood friend, but I'm almost twice your age!" Alice finally stood, not feeling the water soaking through her socks. She was numb to everything. What this girl—what Lain had said did not make sense. At the same time, it explained everything. Her nightmares, the coincidences, small foreign things that seemed so familiar—this girl held the key. But did Alice want to know?
"It's a glitch in the system. Your unconscious memories brought me into existence, brought me back to my old self. I don't want to exist here." The girl turned to the bay window.
"You blame me for your existence?" Alice's eyes widened in shock.
"I don't blame you. I need to fix you. I want to go back to the Wired. I want to go back to watching life, not taking part in it." She sighed as if the weight of the world were upon her.
"Fix me?" Alice stammered, backing away from Lain.
"Your memory, I have to delete myself again. Otherwise I'll be stranded in the physical world and you'll be left with all of my memories." Lain bowed her head sadly.
"I don't want to be fixed!" Alice cried in alarm.
"You don't want to be the only one to remember me. It would be fine in the beginning, except for all of the nightmares and death that always hover just on the edge of your sight." Lain sank to her knees in the water. "Then you'd begin to talk to others, trying to find someone that shares the same experience. Finding nobody, you'd begin to think yourself crazy." Lain looked up, and dropped to a pleading whisper. "You'd be reliving a lifetime that didn't exist."
"You want to... delete my memories of you?" Alice bit her lip.
"Please, Alice?" Lain's eyes held a flicker of hope.
"Will I remember this ever happened?"
"No." Lain took a few small steps towards the towering woman. Alice jumped as a tiny hand was placed over her heart. "Your heart beats so fast." She shook her head, bits of hair dancing. "Don't be afraid, Alice."
"How do I know you won't hurt me?" She demanded, breaking from the girl's touch aggressively. Lain stepped back, bits of glass crunching beneath her bare feet. A bit of blood dissipated in the water.
"Because I love you." Lain smiled briefly, ignoring the glass, and turned to her computer. Alice stood for minutes in silence, digesting Lain's interlude. Finally, she walked to the child and placed a hand on her petite shoulder. Glass shards found their way through her socks.
"What do I do?"
Alice found herself kneeling in the middle of an unfamiliar street as the last shades of red faded from the sky. It was a nice neighborhood, every house nearly identical to the next, every lawn mowed, and every gate polished. She tried to stand, but slices of pain went through her feet. She sat back down, slid off her somehow dusty flats, and peeled off her blood- spotted socks. Bits of glass were deeply imbedded in the balls of her feet. She picked out as many as she could and lifted herself to stagger out into the darkness. Home was somewhere she could find from anywhere. She had to tell her husband about this strange bout of memory loss. She couldn't remember anything about her evening, and the glass was completely unexplainable.
=-=-=-=-=
The house was dark and silent, run-down and destroyed. Nobody could remember a time it hadn't been. Nobody really cared, either, as typical in the introverted suburbs. A tall girl walked by every few days, gazing silently at the empty shell, trying to remember it whole. That girl grew older, taller, smarter, and stopped walking by after several years. She graduated from a university and became a teacher. But one summer, visiting home, her feet took her back to the old house. Finally, curiosity—and something more, perhaps—beckoned her up the walkway. The lawn was dark and tangled, the gate rusty. The old sign read "Iwakura". She pushed open the gate with a little force, and made her way up the crumbling cement stairs. The walls of the house were covered in graffiti, and a bunch of wires and hoses protruded from a torn hole next to a blown-out bay window. A stuffed animal was visible amidst the broken glass still scattered on the walkway. It looked as if it had happened hours before, but it had always been that way.
The front door was open. Not just a crack, it was wide open. The dark- haired girl gingerly stepped over an old tipped coat rack and through the entrance. A pair of small teddy bear slippers were tucked away in a corner, and a dusty pair of school uniform shoes were on the grimy mat. The girl stopped to remove her flats and put them next to the dusty pair. The hallway was covered in dirt and dust, decaying leaves and old weeds scattered in the corners. There was a flight of stairs straight ahead, and oddly, old boards were nailed to the entrance of the only other corridor. She picked her way up the stairs slowly. There were not footprints on the floor, the thick dust fluttering around her feet for the first time in years. The girl's feet made their way around clothes and broken dishes on the treads, though she did not see them. Her breathing quickened, her heart raced, and, fighting through the cobwebbed hall, reached the door. She didn't understand why she chose the door—rather, her feet chose the door for her. There were other doors besides this one. Why not one of them? She wanted so desperately to turn away, but before she could convince her feet to move, the door opened silently, without any movement on her part. A dark room full of monitors and wires and coolant systems hummed softly. The girl's feet took over again, stepping over the threshold. Her socks met a thin layer of water, and she tensed in shock. Her feet took another step. The door closed behind her.
It was so familiar; the entire situation seemed a repeat of something else. That girl had to be somewhere—she stopped herself. What girl? What girl was she thinking of? But a small and very insistent thought told her the girl was around. Without realizing it, she found her way to the old dusty chair, and she sat. The Navi flickered on, and the only thing on the screen frightened the girl.
Hello, Alice. I wondered when you'd come to see me.
"Lain?" Alice gasped. The unfamiliar name tasted bitter on her tongue. The text on the screen changed.
Yes, I'm Lain, but I suppose my name is the only thing you can remember. I loved you, Alice.
"Who are you?" Alice cried. "What do you want from me?"
"Myself." A very real, very shy voice registered in Alice's mind. She knew that voice... She turned, and behind her a small girl of thirteen, looking much younger in a teddy bear suit, stood. Her dark brown-red hair was cut neck short with a shoulder length lock tied over the girl's left ear. Alice recognized her at once.
"Lain! What has happened? Why—"Alice stopped, confused. She could remember this girl, her friend—but yet she couldn't figure out how she'd known her. She only had the memory that they had once been friends, endured terrible things together, but there was no world with Lain in her memory.
"Don't worry, Alice." The child's golden-brown eyes looked deep into Alice's black ones. "You should not have to remember. Why are you here?"
"To see." Alice responded, knowing it sounded stupid, but it was the truth. "How long have you been here?"
"Forever." Lain smiled, head tilting to one side, a dingy ray of sun catching on her face through the broken window. Alice remembered that smile, but couldn't place when.
"Why can't I remember you?" She cried angrily.
"I deleted myself from your memory—from everyone's memory."
"But then why CAN I remember you? A childhood friend, but I'm almost twice your age!" Alice finally stood, not feeling the water soaking through her socks. She was numb to everything. What this girl—what Lain had said did not make sense. At the same time, it explained everything. Her nightmares, the coincidences, small foreign things that seemed so familiar—this girl held the key. But did Alice want to know?
"It's a glitch in the system. Your unconscious memories brought me into existence, brought me back to my old self. I don't want to exist here." The girl turned to the bay window.
"You blame me for your existence?" Alice's eyes widened in shock.
"I don't blame you. I need to fix you. I want to go back to the Wired. I want to go back to watching life, not taking part in it." She sighed as if the weight of the world were upon her.
"Fix me?" Alice stammered, backing away from Lain.
"Your memory, I have to delete myself again. Otherwise I'll be stranded in the physical world and you'll be left with all of my memories." Lain bowed her head sadly.
"I don't want to be fixed!" Alice cried in alarm.
"You don't want to be the only one to remember me. It would be fine in the beginning, except for all of the nightmares and death that always hover just on the edge of your sight." Lain sank to her knees in the water. "Then you'd begin to talk to others, trying to find someone that shares the same experience. Finding nobody, you'd begin to think yourself crazy." Lain looked up, and dropped to a pleading whisper. "You'd be reliving a lifetime that didn't exist."
"You want to... delete my memories of you?" Alice bit her lip.
"Please, Alice?" Lain's eyes held a flicker of hope.
"Will I remember this ever happened?"
"No." Lain took a few small steps towards the towering woman. Alice jumped as a tiny hand was placed over her heart. "Your heart beats so fast." She shook her head, bits of hair dancing. "Don't be afraid, Alice."
"How do I know you won't hurt me?" She demanded, breaking from the girl's touch aggressively. Lain stepped back, bits of glass crunching beneath her bare feet. A bit of blood dissipated in the water.
"Because I love you." Lain smiled briefly, ignoring the glass, and turned to her computer. Alice stood for minutes in silence, digesting Lain's interlude. Finally, she walked to the child and placed a hand on her petite shoulder. Glass shards found their way through her socks.
"What do I do?"
Alice found herself kneeling in the middle of an unfamiliar street as the last shades of red faded from the sky. It was a nice neighborhood, every house nearly identical to the next, every lawn mowed, and every gate polished. She tried to stand, but slices of pain went through her feet. She sat back down, slid off her somehow dusty flats, and peeled off her blood- spotted socks. Bits of glass were deeply imbedded in the balls of her feet. She picked out as many as she could and lifted herself to stagger out into the darkness. Home was somewhere she could find from anywhere. She had to tell her husband about this strange bout of memory loss. She couldn't remember anything about her evening, and the glass was completely unexplainable.