Disclaimer: I don't own any parts of the Yu-Gi-Oh, Digimon or Pokémon franchises. All copyrighted materials belong to the appropriate owners. This is a non-profitable story, written purely for entertainment.

Blank, The Memory Game

.: A Tactless Tales Production :.

Chapter 3

A face to match a name…

There was something familiar about Takato's attire, even though he couldn't remember it precisely. His gray shorts fitted loosely over his legs, covering him down around the centre of swinging shins. He could feel these were amongst the favourites of his wardrobe. Despite their length, they were comfortable and easy to move in. Not to mention their wealthy supply of pockets were bound to make travelling more convenient. He pulled out a small, rectangular box from his side pocket and placed it next to him on the low cliff he sat on.

The body of water sleeping below his dangling, green sneakers sparkled beautifully in the open sun. The surrounding air was touched with a hint of coolness. Takato smiled his appreciation for the perfect weather, taking in the scent of spring given off by the colourful plant life in the near distance.

The brown bangs that fell to either side of his face danced to the beat of the slow breeze. He would've never let his hair grow this long willingly. A single thin, brunette strip hung around between his eyes. Thankfully the back was in more order, having been tied in a short, low ponytail with a blue band.

He looked at the reflection in the water. His jaw was clearly defined at the bottom of a lucid face. He wasn't doing so badly for a teenager, he thought, having seen no blemishes in the reflection. He would probably have to lose the goggles though. The yellow band against its blue eyes didn't appear as fashionable as it may have been when he used to like it.

He tugged it off and set it in his laps. Much better, he sighed in relief. He took hold of the deck he previously pulled out. If Visyaki felt it necessary to produce the cards, they had to hold some sort of significance. So far, he had read the guidebook she provided him with, at least a dozen times, cover to cover. It was safe to assume he grasped the basic knowledge of the game. Next, he would turn direct his attention to his deck.

"Magic card, and that symbol's … for quickplay! A Quickplay Magic Card!" He recited each card's attribute and type as he explored the deck. He found that his own voice always helped him remember things. Speaking out the material was the best way to prepare; it was proof positive as the results of his tests would show. Tests … his eyes suddenly shut.

Tests, tests … school … a storm of second-long clips stampeded through his mind … Kazu! A memory!

He opened his eyes, suddenly breathing at a rushed paced. His name was Takato, fifteen years old, in ninth grade, at … at a high school. Its name didn't come back to him, but Kazu did! Kazu was one his best friends at school! A forgotten happiness surged through his body. They'd spend their lunch breaks together, and walked home from school side by side, and they loved to talk about cards…

0-0-0

… The cards he remembered looked nothing like the ones in the pack he was currently studying however. Their backs were prominently green, with blue borders and spherical symbols at the centre. He recalled a moment Kazu gave him one card; his lips were moving, but Takato couldn't hear what he saying. His eyes were full of worry, tears running down his black pitched cheeks. "Why? What's wrong, Kazu?"

Kazu's lips parted even further as he spoke. Even in mute, Takato could tell he was shouting. "What's wrong!?" Takato tried again, his nerves beginning to shiver. Then it dawned on him. If he couldn't hear Kazu, chances were Kazu couldn't hear him either.

He would have to look elsewhere for more information. As soon as he thought of it, the scene's background became apparent. The city behind Kazu was engulfed in flames, and black puffs of smog populated the blood-red heavens. Takato's stomach cringed as he noticed the streets were littered with human corpses, some so burnt they were hardly distinguishable.

His hand lifted to shield his nose from the stench when it was brought right back down by Kazu. Kazu shook his wrist furiously, desperately trying to bring his attention to something. The card, Takato realised, holding it up in front of him.

There must've been something about the card that could help the situation. But what was it?

Takato tried to turn it so he could see its face, but he was shocked to find he couldn't. His fingers turned as hard as they could but the card wouldn't budge, like a tap shut too tight.

"What's on the other side of the card!?!?" He shouted at Kazu, despite the knowledge that the young boy couldn't hear him.

He screamed out loud as his fingers gave one final twist…

0-0-0

A gasp brought him back to life. He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. The green fields, the clear pond, the tall trees, the chirping, it was all back.

His fist slammed into the ground. He was so happy to remember Kazu, why did the memory have to end like that?

To further sour his disappointment, he didn't learn what secrets that card held, and why it was so important. The flashback provided more questions than it did answers, if it was a flashback at all. He wasn't even sure if those events actually happened. Probably not. What role would he be playing in such a horrid situation anyway? The most compromised plan of action for him would be to take cover under his bed.

Maybe it was a glimpse at the future. He swallowed at the possibility. Whatever it was, he needed to find answers. Maybe he could stop it from happening.

How did he get there in the first place? He traced back his steps in his mind.

… Then I shut my eyes …

He did as he thought. His lids pressed harder against his cheeks, urging the darkness to emit the images he wanted to see.

"Hi!"

The excited shrill hit his conscious hard, plunging him into the waters below with a big splash. His hair was dark and damp, stuck to his face like a drenched mop as his head surfaced. He jerked his head backward, soaked tendrils thrusting droplets about as they were whipped back in position. A look of sheer irritation washed over his face.

His elbows climbed back to the ground he had been sitting on. He looked at the pair of red, tennis shoes in front of him curiously.

"Need help?" The female voice offered from above.

"No thanks." Using his grounded forearms as leverage, he pulled himself back to his feet. He stepped away from his cards in a hurry, realising his dripping clothes could be hazardous to their perfect condition.

The girl, standing a shoulder taller him, looked on, almost in awe. Her ocean-blue eyes bounced up and down his height mockingly. "Haven't you ever heard of a fishing rod?"

"Wha-?" Takato said in shock, having expected an apology instead of a smart comment. He looked the girl over as he continued to squeeze his shirt. Unruly carroty hair was spiked at the tips, small cascades falling between her eyebrows, and a prickly bun to the left contained by a navy hair band. "Haven't you ever heard of, um, knocking?" It was all he could think of.

She put a thoughtful finger to her chin, slim arm extending from a small yellow t-shirt that barely covered her shoulders. Her brow creased in concentration. She must not have realised how curious her gaze was. If she had, she would've spoken much sooner. "Are you Ash?"

"Am I what?" Takato retorted. He wasn't sure what to make of the funny question. He should've expected as much from a funny looking girl. Long, slender legs extended from a tiny pair of denim shorts. He deduced from her somewhat scrawny figure that she was a teenager, maybe even his age.

"Ash! I'm looking for someone named Ash, are you him?" She raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Nope." He found an odd satisfaction in denying her suspicions. "My name's Takato." She took a step back as his fingers jostled through his wet hair. "Do I look like Ash to you?" he asked mockingly.

She rolled her shoulders. "I don't know."

If she hadn't held a straight face, he would've been sure she was fooling around. "So, you're telling me…" He hopped on foot, head tilted to the side to empty the water in his ear. "You're looking for someone, and all you know is their first name? You have no idea what he looks like?" He assumed at this point Ash was a guy if she thought he could be him. "That's very smart."

"Yep," she seemed to agree with his sarcastic remark. "Almost as smart as bathing with your clothes on."

He glared upon her satisfied grin with irritation. This, coming from the reason he fell into the water in the first place. The agitation churned in his fingers, imagining the wet shirt was her neck as they squeezed with a passion. "Now, if you're done, you'll have to excuse me. I need to get back to--" He eyed the jumble of cards by her feet, "training."

"I'd say," unfortunately, she continued to speak even as he sat with his back turned to her. She slouched, hands on her knees, looking over his shoulder to what he was reading. "That handbook was specifically designed for amateur Duellists."

Takato loathed the statement before it even registered in his mind. Technically, he knew she was right, but it was the arrogance reeking in the words she voiced that made him wish she wasn't. Without so much as an invite, she took an unwelcome seat beside him.

"So, Takato," she started innocently. "What are you doing here? Oh, and my name's Misty by the way."

That was the first plausible thing he heard her say; and a very good question too. His presence in this world was something not even he had a rational explanation for. He'd rather not communicate the empty answer he knew. It would only make her blind search seem ingenious and frankly, that would be the worst type of therapy for her swollen head.

Brown eyes swooped to their corners, inspecting the orange-haired girl embracing her folded legs. He didn't know how or why, but her uncomfortable closeness called upon a need to be cautious; probably because he had already played victim to surprise. The damp clothing clung to his body as a cold reminder of this.

He blinked at the shine of something metallic on her wrist. "So, you're a duelist too?" He recognized the Duel Disk.

"Yep," Misty chimed, shooting to her feet. "And I'm also falling behind schedule!"

"Schedule?" He looked up to her with a puzzled expression.

"Well, I was expecting I'd be at least halfway into Viridian Forest by now." Azure orbs considered the descending sun with concern. Her figures fiddled almost unconsciously. She assumed, from his silence, that he didn't know what she was talking about. "See, Pallet Town's situated far on the other side of this huge forest. That's where I'm headed. That's Ash's hometown. Even if I don't find him there, I'm sure I can learn something that'll help my search."

At least that made sense, Takato thought. "But why the big hunt for this Ash person?"

Her shoulders dropped in a heavy sigh. She didn't say anything for a moment. "Let's go. I'll tell you on the way." She began for the Viridian Forest's wide entrance.

What did she mean 'let's go'? Did she really think he was that depressed to be tagging alongside her? "I'll pass. But hey, good luck anyway."

"If you stay there, you're the one who's going to need the luck," she spoke up as she continued to walk further away from him. "That little waterfront's the Beast's favourite drinking spot. When the sun goes down, he comes out. Be sure to say hi to him for me, will ya? If he let's you keep your mouth that is."

"Beast? Yeah right…" His thoughts were conflicting. He wouldn't doubt she would create a story just to scare him into following her, but at the same time, his limited knowledge of this place wasn't enough to call her supposed bluff. He shivered as a sudden howl reverberated from the nearby trees. His mind was made up. "Wait for me!"

End of Chapter 3