Pain. That was the first thing Blank felt as he awoke. Intolerable, unimaginable pain. He could sense cold metal that seemed to be slicing off his own skin. Every time the scissors touched him , pain resonated through him as if he'd been shot. And then there were needles…every so often, Blank would feel the needles bobbing in and out of his skin as if he were a piece of cloth. He tried to scream, but no sound came from his already-hoarse throat. He writhed, blindly attempting to escape from whatever creature was tormenting him, but instead he merely felt the scissors graze more of his skin. Warm liquid trickled out of the wound, adding to the dangerous amount of blood Blank had already lost that day. Then, Blank realized his pants were wet, and not from blood. Fantastic.
"Put him back under!" A gruff, alien voice shouted.
Blank wanted to cry out as he felt the cloth press against his face, but instead he found himself relaxing.
"No, that's too much! He's just a kid!" The voice bellowed once more. What's too much? Blank wondered to himself as he slipped into a blissful oblivion.
Blank faded in and out of consciousness, unable to discern his nightmares from reality. More often than not, his world was filled with shadows that tried to claw him back into their depths. Even when he resisted, he was plagued by horrible visions.
There were three dreams that perpetually haunted him. In one he chased a yellow monkey through an overgrown field filled with bombs. When he finally reached the monkey, he saw a Bomb. It was ironic; really, that the fiery monster had the same name as the object it passed, unintentionally lighting the fuse. Everything disappeared as fire engulfed Blank. In another dream, Blank was on the streets of Lindblum, looking for a good target. Instead of robbing the citizens of Lindblum, however, Blank found that he became the victim of thievery. But what was stolen was not just Gil or simple trinket, it was more precious than gold. Though Blank couldn't remember what it was, he knew he needed it back and doggedly searched Lindblum, but to no avail. Finally, in Blank's third dream he was racing down an endless hallway, forever trying to reach a slowly closing door. Each time he had the dream, the opening seemed smaller, and the light spilling from it seemed dimmer and dimmer.
Then there were the whispers, constant murmurs that Blank rarely understood. Though he tried his best, the voices sounded as though Blank was underwater….and miles away. Still, there were the rare snatches that met his ears:
"…least they stopped it from spreading to the other eye…"
"…doctor said not to get our hopes up…"
"…wanted to give him…"
"…won't eat…"
"When's he supposed to wake up?"
"Don't know what that kid'll do if he…"
"…it's been too long…"
"I'm so sorry, Baku…"
"…doctor wants to see him tomorrow..."
"…should've been awake a week ago…"
Blank tried to answer the voices, or at least hear the entire sentence, but he failed every time. In his stupor, he still wasn't sure where he was or what was happening. All he had were the voices, the dreams, and this strange feeling he couldn't get rid of. Part of Blank felt alien, as if it belonged to another person. The sensation terrified him, so that he was almost glad when he faded into emptiness. Today, however, Blank felt much more aware.
"Hey, Blank. How are ya feeling?" A familiar voice whispered, probably not expecting an answer.
"Zidane…?" Blank mumbled sleepily. His voice was scratchy, as if he hadn't used it in a quite a while.
"BLANK!" Zidane's shocked shout could be heard throughout the Tantalus hideout.
"Zidane, what the heck are you shouting for? Boss'll kill you if he hears you yelling in here!" Marcus "whispered" as he rushed into the room.
"Marcus…?"
"Holy shit! Blank? Zidane, why didn't you tell anyone he was awake?" Marcus demanded.
"Well, I was TRYING, but then you start yelling at me!" Zidane said indignantly.
"Wa's goin' on…" Blank murmured almost incoherently. His grip on the world was once again fading, and he could feel himself slipping back into unconsciousness.
"I'll get the Boss!" Blank barely heard Marcus as he gave up once more.
Since that day, Blank had spoken to five members of Tantalus and one shocked doctor. He never said more than a few feverish words and usually fell asleep soon after, but it still was a relief to know that they wouldn't have to plan a funeral for a twelve-year-old child. And every time Blank awoke, he stayed conscious for just a little longer. It seemed likely the boy was going to make it.
However, no one was more excited than Cinna. He was tired of going to the boy's stuffy makeshift hospital room. He should've been in a real hospital, but the doctor had sent him back to Tantalus after a few days, saying there was nothing more to do but wait. Apparently, he didn't have the room for an extra patient. Cinna believed that the doctor had already deemed Blank dead. Still, he didn't mind going to visit the boy. He didn't even mind changing his bandages or feeding him or whatever Baku had ordered him to do that day. It was the fact he had to look at him.
"I knew you'd pull through, Blank." Cinna said softly, "that lousy doctor didn't know what he was talking about." He always did this, this one-sided conversation, whenever he went to check on Blank. They all did. It gave them something to focus on other than the redhead's face. Usually, Cinna continued to talk to himself, but out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw…no, he didn't imagine it. As Cinna looked on sympathetically, Blank's eyes twitched, opened for a split-second, and then slammed shut in pain. He didn't blame him; it must be hard to adjust to two different eyes…
Blank continued his attempts to open his eyes, his forehead creasing in pain every time. Finally, his eyes opened long enough to see the man standing over him. "…Cinna? Wa's wrong with my eyes?" Blank slurred.
"Nothin'. You just haven't used them in a while." Cinna lied. Let someone else break it to the boy. Boss, or Marcus. Even Zidane. Cinna just didn't have the heart to tell him.
"Cinna…?" Blank said again.
"Yeah, Blank?"
"…I don't feel… like me…"
Cinna fished for a good story to give Blank, but nothing came to mind. To his immense relief, he didn't need to as Zidane bounded into the room.
"Is that Blank?" Zidane called excitedly. Cinna let the boy see for himself. "Blank! You're awake!" He raced over to the boy, frantically waving tail mimicking the grin on his face.
"Hey, Zidane…" Blank mumbled with a small smile. "Wa's up?"
"You lying here like a dead person for two weeks and scaring the crap out of us, THAT'S what's up!" Zidane shouted, hands at his hips.
"Whoa, take it easy, Zidane! I'm going to get everyone, all right?" Cinna said. He received no response.
"Oh, right, almost forgot…" Zidane exclaimed as he emptied his pockets onto Blank's bedside table. Blank heard a tinkling sound and saw a flash of something shiny. Confused, he struggled for a few minutes to sit up. Finally, Zidane helped the boy right himself out of pity. Blank turned and saw a thief's trove strewn across the nightstand.
"What's this?"
"This is your share!" Zidane said as he gestured dramatically. "You said yourself that everyone needed to give part of their loot to live here. This is yours."
"This is…wow. How'd you get so much?"
Zidane shrugged. "Tried some different methods. Slowed down, looked where I was going…" The grin never left his face.
Blank smiled in response, but then his smile faded into a frown. "I remember…there was an explosion. Are you okay?"
"You're asking ME?" Zidane laughed, "You should be more worried about yourself! I thought we'd lost you back there when you decided to play Mr. Hero...thanks for that, by the way…" He added quickly.
"Why am I always helping you, anyway?" Blank said, shaking his head.
"I'm just too awesome for you to resist!"
"Clearly." Blank said as he punched Zidane. It was light, but it still surprised the blonde.
"I can see you're feeling better." Baku exclaimed as he walked into the room, Marcus and Cinna close behind. Blank's face lit up at the sight of his friends and his adoptive father.
"Of course he has! He's already gone back to abuse." Zidane moaned.
"I think Blank can do whatever he wants to you after what he went through." Baku chuckled.
Zidane started to protest, but Blank cut him off, "What…exactly happened to me? I know there was an explosion, and Zidane said I've been in bed for two weeks…am I…okay?"
"You're alive, Blank. That's the important part." Baku said seriously.
Blank laughed nervously. "You make it sound like an excuse, like you're worried I'll be upset. And I still don't feel…normal."
"What do you mean?" Marcus asked.
"Like…I know this sounds crazy but it's like…some of me is just…different."
"Cinna, go get Blank a mirror." Baku ordered. The man quickly scrambled away.
Blank stared at the sea of sympathetic faces, starting to get annoyed. "Okay, seriously, is there something on my face?" As he spoke, he reached up to feel his head, and was shocked when his hand found rough, unfamiliar skin. "What…?"
"Got it!" Cinna shouted as he handed Blank the hand mirror.
Blank stared at his reflection. He kept attempting to speak, but he couldn't utter more than unintelligible nonsense. First of all, Blank was covered in burns, cuts, and even a few stitches. He could deal with that. But some parts of him, the parts he assumed they couldn't save with mere stitches and bandages, were covered in…skin. Was it skin? It was dark in color, and there was a blatant difference between the grafts and Blank's own pale skin. Then there was his eye…while one eye was still bright green, the other eye was a ghastly amber shade that bordered on orange. And not only that, but it wasn't the right shape. The pupil was incredibly small compared to his real eyes, and again you'd be blind to not notice that it looked unnatural.
Well wasn't this just fantastic? First his memory, his home, his family. Then his name. And now Blank's body wasn't entirely his own.
Blank laughed darkly. "Hey, look. I'm FrankenBlank." His hand began to shake, and then he hurled the mirror onto the ground. No one moved to pick up the broken shards of glass.
"All right. Everyone out." Baku said, breaking the silence. Cinna and Marcus left immediately. "Zidane. That includes you."
"But I-"
"Zidane! Tantalus goes on in three hours, and if Ruby told me right, you haven't even glanced at your script. I'd go read if I were you."
Zidane made a huge show of leaving, his tail drooping tail accenting the over-exaggerated sadness on his face. Baku slammed the door behind him with a sigh.
"Blank…"
"Don't call me that." Blank snapped.
Baku stared Blank down for a few a moments until the redhead finally looked away. Then, he softened and walked towards him. "You know, I still ask around whenever we visit a new town."
"Why bother!" Blank shouted. "Even if my family's still alive, how would they even recognize me?"
"You're still you. It doesn't matter if you die your hair purple and get lime-green polka-dots over your body, Blank. They'll know it's you."
"You have to say that. You're my dad!"
Baku smiled at his words. "That's 'cause it's true."
Blank fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. "Whose is it?" Blank said suddenly. Baku stared at him in confusion. "Whose skin, whose eye? I want to know, Boss. Where'd they get it?"
"Does it really matter? It saved you either way."
"It does matter. I don't want it! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS ON ME! IF YOU CAN"T FIND IT OUT, THEN I DON'T WANT IT!" Blank screamed. Then he froze, gripping his chest in pain.
"…You're gonna pop a stitch, Blank. Go back to sleep." Baku commanded, not wanting to continue the conversation any further. The silence as he left the room was almost smothering.
Blank sat on his bed, fuming. He felt like a monster. He looked like a monster. Why did he have to be so stupid? Why did he have to go and help that idiot?
"What was that all about?" Blank jumped as heard Zidane's voice. He hadn't even realized that the boy had snuck back into room, but there he was, leaning against the door with his tail swishing casually.
"Nothing." Blank muttered, refusing to meet Zidane's eyes. "Now, get outta here before Boss finds you."
Zidane laughed. "He won't catch me! Besides, I'm curious…what was that about you dyeing your hair purple and have 'green polka-dot skin'?"
"Is that really all you heard?" Blank asked.
"More or less."
Blank gave a long and deep sigh. "All right Zidane, I'm going to tell you a story, 'kay?"
"Okay…" Zidane sounded confused.
"So there was this kid, about six years old, who woke up one day and didn't know who he was. He knew he had had a life, but everything from his life- the memories and the people themselves- was gone now. He was confused and scared, but he didn't want to show it, so he acted like a tough guy and roamed the streets of Lindblum...One of the few things he did know was that he wasn't used to this rough life, and he couldn't survive. He started dying…until he was found by a nice man who offered him a home-"
"Wait, wait, wait. You joined Tantalus as a six-year-old? Little toddler Blank was out there robbing Lindblum?"
"No. I wasn't allowed to steal for a looong time. I became more of the foster child of Tantalus, with Baku as my dad…but not a little kid like you." Zidane glared at Blank, who ignored it, "So, that's my story.
`Zidane's glare melted into a smile. "You know, I can't remember my family either."
"Really?" Blank was truly shocked. It always seemed like everyone but he had a family.
Zidane nodded. "Well…we can be each other's family, then! We can be brothers…for real now, not just because of Tantalus!" Zidane said with his tail waving excitedly.
"All right, so you're my brother now! Just promise me one thing: Don't ever let me help you again!"
Cold. An icy chill started in Blank's toes and slowly spread through his body and he squirmed helplessly in the monster's clutches. Horrified, he realized he could no longer move his legs, then his waist, then his arms...Zidane. He thought to himself before his mind went numb, Guess I can't help you anymore. Don't screw up, kid.