Words: 1166
Happy AoGA House Cup!
"Sumire!" Sumire looks around to find where the voice came from bit she finds no one. It sounded so real. She could feel the pain and loneliness within the voice but she ignores it, thinking that it was just her imagination.
She slumps back to her bed, her brows meeting into a frown. The hospital didn't have comfortable futons, and the sheets were itchy. Perhaps the voice from nowhere might be attributed to the lack of sleep she had gotten lately. Since the doctors have told her of her current state, she's been trying her hardest to remember something that could fill in the gap in her mind.
'Retrograde amnesia,' she hazily recalls them saying, voices dripping with sympathy, 'you have lost your memories before the incident has occurred, but it is unknown if you could still recover them or not. We're sorry.' She purses her lips in annoyance and shakes her head, giving another attempt at remembering the things her mind has lost.
In the past week, strangers have been coming in and out of her ward. There was a girl— No, a friend, Sumire quickly corrects herself— who made an effort to combine a ton of pictures in an album, all in chronological order, properly labeled with the date, with scribbles of what had happened. Her friend came an hour after Sumire woke up and introduced herself as Mikan Sakura. Yet as Sumire looked through the pages of the album obviously carefully put together, shecouldn't help but wonder of that one boy she hasn't seen since she woke up.
He has sandy blond hair, which frames his face in a wild, mischievous manner. "Who is he?" She mutters to herself as she flicks through the photo album. "And why does he matter?"
'He doesn't,' a voice in the back of her mind says. 'You forgot him for a reason.'
But she forgot almost everyone; even Mikan Sakura, and Mikan Sakura seemed like someone who was pretty important. Sumire is sure the voice was wrong, and that she forgot those who DID matter. She just wants to know why.
But why is the question it pains her the most to ask. The nurses urge her to let her memories return naturally. "Your memories shall return on their own, dear. If you force them, it will only bring you agony."
Sumire nods as she stares blankly at the wall, there is a familiar smell lurking in the area.
Unable to pinpoint the odour, Sumire blames it on boredom and insanity.
When her head finally throbs and she feels exhausted, she decides to give it up for today and takes calming breaths. 'Tomorrow,' she says to herself firmly, 'tomorrow, I'll try again.' She can't help it; she somehow feels pressured to regain her memories. But as she looks out the window and sees the lightening sky, she wonders if she could fill the impossibly big gap in just a matter of time.
On the room next to hers, though, lays Koko who couldn't, for the life of his, grasp on any silver lining. He prompts himself to think of Sumire, but then he gets hit by the fact that Sumire doesn't even know who he is.
The voices grow louder as people rush into the hospital. He can practically feel Mikan's boisterous thoughts swirling through the air.
Misaki places her hand on Koko's shoulder in comfort, "I'm sure she'll remember you one day".
"She screamed, Misaki-Sempai," Koko says as he tries to hold back the tears, "Just looking at me for that split second tortured both of us."
'The hospital should never be a place for Alices like Koko,' Misaki thinks. For a moment, she considers sending him to sleep, but Sumire wouldn't want that. In fact, she's pretty sure Sumire would force him to stay awake to fight the voices, just like she had made Koko talk when they were in elementary. But of course, while that remains in Koko's immediate memory, it most probably is absent in Sumire's.
She squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, though she herself is on the verge of panic. "Koko, please." she says, almost choking on her words. She leans her forehead against his and cracks a small, strained smile, attempting to help the boy. "Do it for Sumire. She wouldn't want it if you lose to some puny voices, right?"
Koko barely felt the hand squeezing his shoulder, but Misaki's forehead leaning against his seemed to have made a whole world of difference. All the voices become drowned out by Misaki's powerful inner voice.
'Please, please, please,' is now the only thing he can hear.
Koko's body begins to numb considerably as he listens to the repeated plea. He feels colder and shivers.
Misaki feels the change and realises Koko's ailment, "Oh my God, no, no no!"
Koko, being the mind-reader he is, hears Misaki's fears instantly.
Misaki clutches the convulsing boy's forearms and wills herself to think rationally. "Koko, think of Sumire. Please!" She put all the force behind her words, even in her thoughts for she knows that the boy could read her them (and by God, she just hopes it helps him more than it's adding to the harm). "Sumire wouldn't want you to die!"
"But Sumire doesn't even remember who I am!" Koko hisses. He knows he's supposed to think of Sumire, but knowing that his lifeline doesn't even remember him is too painful. And all those voices he can't control keep overpowering his own thoughts, and Misaki's inner voice isn't as strong now, and he wishes it could all end.
The boy's words makes the other's blood boil, and her voice rises a bit out of slight anger. "She will soon!" She shuts her eyes and channels all her thoughts to Koko. They both don't notice the Alice Limiting earring that's starting to glow. "Now fight-back-!"
He breathes in and out. Koko feels the sensation of Misaki's will filling his body, shouting to survive, to live for Sumire.
Misaki's thoughts embrace Koko's darkness, "She needs you here, Koko! Sumire needs your strength."
The Alice Limitation device glows even brighter, shining like a full moon before dimming suddenly.
"It's not easy," Koko's voice trembles, his words barely unclear, yet his breathing starts to level evenly, and his struggles for air stops. "How can she need me when-"
"She's not in a fairly good condition either," Misaki cuts him off, "But that doesn't mean she's not trying. She's holding on to something only she knows, and maybe, just maybe, she's holding on to you."
From the corner of her eye, Misaki sees a bright glow, and she feels relieved. A glow meant the Alice Limiting Device was doing its job - finally, she thinks.
Koko hears the thought, and he realizes that the voices in his mind are gradually becoming softer. Misaki's speech, however, resounds in his head. Maybe because he knows that deep down, he wants himself to be Sumire's lifeline as much as she is his.