?

"An Apple A Day Keeps the Doctor Away." What did that mean? Did Apples have something in them that was poisonous to Doctors? Was it poisonous every doctor? Or did it work like an allergy? Then would that mean all doctors have an allergy to apples? What if someone without an allergy to apples were to become a doctor? Would that person instantly become allergic to apples or was there a different process?

"Calling Number 38"

Either way, he had absolutely no idea why the 'apple' in front of his eyes had those words, "An Apple A Day Keeps The Doctor Away" carved on it. More specially the large picture of an apple with those words written on it. Or at least, that's what he thought was written on it. The picture of the apple was painted on a wall. The other walls also had something written on them. The wall of a 'Free' Clinic. Now if only time would move faster so his turn would come and he would be able to get himself looked at. He held his stomach tighter when it churned. Come to think of it. Wasn't the last thing he ate an apple? So didn't that mean "An Apple A Day Does Not Keep The Doctor Away"? Now he was just hopelessly lost on that train of thought.

"Calling Number 39"

Almost there, just this one and then his turn would come. He waited. No one in the waiting room paid attention to him just as he to them. Then again there weren't too many people in here to begin with. His stomach felt a little better now. Maybe coming here was a waste of time. Oh well, too late now. He ran his free hand through his hair. His head no longer wrapped in bandage which was discarded the day he took to the streets. That was about three days ago. Scrounging for food and water day in and out was all he did after the first day. Water was plentiful, with fountains in certain places like parks and playgrounds. Food on the other hand was scarce. He probably would not have known how to find any if he did not see a homeless man searching in a trash can.

"Calling Number 40"

That would be his cue. He stood up and went into the doctor's chamber. He looked around. The doctor was an old woman. She sat behind a desk, looking a little bored while reading something on said desk. There weren't any equipment in here like the ones he saw back the hospital. There was a desk, a weirdly shaped bed, In his opinion at least, after all what kind of bed bent upwards like that? Can anyone even sleep on it? There was also a large mirror mounted on the wall to the side. The woman motioned him to go and sit on the oddly shaped bed. His legs moved. Inching towards the doctor with each step.

Till they stopped moving.

He stood frozen with his eyes ever so slightly wide. His legs backtracked, turning to his right he noticed it. His reflection in the mirror.

He blinked several times, trying to see if what he saw was a trick of light or not. What he saw did not change. It was not a trick of light. It was real.

"*CoughCough*" he heard a fake cough. It was the doctor. Who seemed to be getting irritated at him for just standing there. He went towards the bed. She looked at him with a faint scowl. When she got a better look at him her scowled faded and was replaced by concern.

"How are you today?" she asked him.

"My stomach hurts." he told her. She raised an eyebrow then stood up and got closer to him.

"Lift your Shirt." She tells him. He does as she told him to do. The old woman raised an eyebrow at him again when she saw his bandaged torso. "Are you sure it's just a stomachache?" He nods at her. Her eyes narrowed at him, searching for any signs of deception while he simply keeps his blank stare at her, wondering what she was waiting for. 'Not getting paid. Not my problem.' She sighed and pressed his stomach. "Does it hurt now?"

He shook his head. Even though his ears listened to her words and mouth answered her questions. His mind was back to what he saw in the mirror. It all made sense now. The Doctor then the nurses and even the kids back at the hospital. The reason why they flinched or looked away from him after making eye contact for barely a second. The reason why most of them refused to make eye contact with him longer than necessary. He couldn't really blame them now. Even he had trouble staring at the cause of it. It was his eyes all along. His eyes were unlike any other he had seen so far. His eyes lacked... something within them. Something that almost all other eyes he had seen. His eyes were... Dead. Almost lifeless even. Even the eyes of that Priest weren't this empty.

"Seek your purpose in this world-"

That was what the priest said. He remembers it clearly. Was that it? Was it because he didn't have that? Would his eyes not look so lifeless if he had a clear purpose? The Priest seemed like he knew what he was talking about. Almost like the Priest had experienced it himself first hand. But what does it mean to have a purpose? What was purpose even to begin with?

"Alright." the old woman's word brought him out of his musings. "Looks like it's just a regular stomachache. It should go away in a couple of hours so you shouldn't need any medicine for now. But in case it does I'll write down the name of a medicinal syrup for you to take. Would that suffice?" With that she hands a paper with the name of the medicine she mentioned.

He blinked at her in confusion. Three seconds later he nodded silently then took the paper from her hand. The paper had weird markings on it that he couldn't quite read, the markings were a lot more complex compared to the ones from the waiting room even though it was far shorter in comparison. it was presumably the name of the medicine she mentioned. The doctor told him to leave so another could come in and get his or her problem looked at. He did as she told him to. But not before getting another look at his reflection on the mirror. The visit to the doctor had been a near total waste of time and effort. He had expected to be freed of his ailment. But he should have known that the doctor wouldn't have been able to cure him without something in return. Oh yes, by the end of the first day he had realized it. Something needed to be given in or order to obtain something. An action of equivalent exchange... sort of. And the most common item used to complete this action of 'equivalent exchange' was money. Colored paper with the faces of people on it or circular shaped metal with patterns on it. Unfortunately for him-

- He had none of those.

Hours went by, night crawled in. He walked around the streets aimlessly, looking at things as he passed by. Anything that would give him a clue of what his 'purpose' was. Or even what purpose was itself.

"*(^*^) YAY!" an odd sound reached his ears. The sound gained his attention, making him search for it. There was only sidewalk in front of him and sidewalk behind. To the left was the street, full of various still vehicles. Stuck in traffic. His head turns to his right, his eyes blinked once. Behind the transparent glass of a store were multiple Television Sets or TVs placed next to another. They all showed random channels running. One of them though, was on a channel that showed a... he did not know what it was. But whatever it was, wasn't human, despite holding humanoid shape. Some form of... drawn(?) character by the looks of it. Five young... girls? At least they looked like girls, singing and dancing. Pink, yellow, blue, red, purple. They wore dresses of various colors. And even though he felt no different than before hearing the sound of their singing, it captivated him somehow. But was it his purpose, or related to it though?... No... This isn't it. He wasn't sure how or why. He just felt that this wasn't it and knew that he would recognize his purpose once he saw it. He saw the girl in the center of the five strike a pose and less than a second after her, the rest of the girls did the same. He raised him arms without looking at them and spread them out, trying to imi-

"Oi! What do you think you're doing?! Get outta here!" a shouting from his right made him stop. He turned and walked away. Moments later an older man stood in the spot he evacuated.

"Tch. Darn homeless people." he heard the man say even though he was a good distance away from the man. He doesn't turn to look at the older man throwing a displeased glare his way, he just walked forward.

The moon rose high above his head, the streets of this busy city began to calm down. Shops began to close, engines of vehicles did not roar as loudly and the homeless began to settle in, claiming the 'good' spots to call it a night. He looked around, there wasn't anywhere he could sleep right now. Anywhere that he could rest without being interrupted or wasn't already taken by another homeless person at least. Trying to sleep on a spot next to another homeless person was out of the question. He tried that yesterday, asking if he could sleep on the spot next the man on a bench. The man simply answered by inching down till the man was in a position that left no room for The Boy to sleep on. He asked again after that, only for the man to tell him to 'fu©k off'. At first he wasn't sure what that meant. But the word 'off' was used in a negative way... right? So he thought the man's answer was a 'no'. He didn't understand why the man had to be so cryptic about it. And chalked it up to be an adult thing.

He kept walking till he noticed a seemingly empty alleyway. Inspecting it closer he realized that it was empty. There wasn't a single homeless person in sight. For good reasons too since there was trash everywhere. The stench reached his nostrils but it was his only option. He sat down on the ground before lying down on it. Pulling one of the trash bags over to him he rested his head on it. It wasn't exactly comfortable and he hoped he would get used to sleeping like this soon enough. His eyes gazed upwards, looking at the moon above one last time before they closed for rest.

-? Months Later-

The Days had gone by. Days would become weeks. Eventually... he lost count of time. Then again it wasn't like he knew how to count very well to begin with. It felt like years had passed. But in reality it was likely to be a few months at most yet he had come no closer to finding his 'purpose' than he was the day he started. He wondered to himself. He had questions. Questions, as in more than one question.

As the days went by, he noticed a few things about others that he couldn't see in himself. One stuck out the most. Everyone he had seen so far was capable of it but he was not. It confused him greatly.

His eyes opened. A low growl reached his ears. His stomach was rumbling. His lips curled downwards just a bit. He was unable to secure any food yesterday. His hunger would hinder his search today. Subconsciously his eyes rolled over to the riverbank, scanning the area, searching for someone... Or would that be a something now? There was nothing there. The river's water level had risen. It wasn't that hard for him to put two and two together. He sat up. The sudden action caused the newspapers and torn cloths on top of him to slip off. However, the oversized jacket on his body did not. He turned, this time the sound of something clanging reached his ears. It was faint, mostly because of the sounds made by the vehicles above on the bridge. And it sounded... close? Really close? Almost like it was coming from himself. One of his hands went into a pocket of the jacket he wore. He felt something... somethings inside. It was small and... round? He raised eyebrow and pulled it out. He blinked when he opened his palm, surprised at how the dirtied coins still reflected the light of the early morning sun.

His thoughts raced as his eyes widen briefly. He wasn't really sure what to do now. The possibilities felt nearly endless. He had never been able to get a hold of money before so he had absolutely no clue on what to spen-

His stomach growled. Reminding him of what was more important than the other 'possibilities.'

...

His eyes marveled at the object. Drool dripped out from a corner of his lips. Right now he was sitting on a bench in a park. He couldn't read the writings on the rectangular tray but if he heard it correctly, the woman at the 'convenience store', he heard someone call it that a while back, called it a 'bento' before handing it to him in visible disgust. He couldn't really blame her for that. These eyes of his repulsed most people that came to peer into them. Not to mention he hadn't had really been able to properly clean himself, take a bath as most would call it, in well over five weeks. If his nose hadn't gotten used to putrid smells he would have noticed the smell more as well. The drool rolled down from the corner of his lips and fell down and hit the plastic lid.

"Kaa-chan! He's weird."

"Don't look at him Sou-chan. Let's get moving or you'll be late for school."

"But I don't wanna goooo!"

He heard that clearly. The comment made by the child, rude yet true, pulled him out of his thoughts. He ran both palms through the bento's surface, admiring the contents inside one last time before he would eat it. With his admiration done, he tried to open the lid... Only to realize he had no idea on how to open it. He stares at the bento, expression frozen.

"..."

Later that same day. He found himself walking on the streets as usual. Deep in thought. The bento was absolutely delicious, best thing he ever ate. Or at least remembered to have eaten. He would certainly not mind eating something like that again. Who wouldn't? No one wanted to eat the things that had the potential to leave them with a bad stomach, if not worse, by the end of the day. The sun would be setting in a bit so he needed to find a new place to sleep tonight. By the time he had returned to the spot he slept on yesterday, the water level had risen too high. To try and sleep there now would only result in him drowning.

"Tou-chan! Can I get that for Christmas?!" the sound of a child caught his attention. His legs stopped pushing him forward as his head slightly turned to his right to see said child, a little girl, probably younger than him, with a much older man who he could only be her father. It did help that she called him 'father' as well. The little girl was pointing at a large stuffed rabbit on the display of a toy store. Her father looked lost for a moment then spoke with a smile.

"W-What do you mean, Senna-chan? Don't you want Santa to bring it for you?" the man stuttered. His smile did not falter

"Santa? But Nii-chan said Santa doesn't exist."

He stopped paying attention to their words after that. He'd been hearing those words, Christmas and Santa, quite a lot this past week so that wasn't on the forefront of his mind at the moment. He kept his eyes on the nervous smile the older man had on his face as he tried to convince his daughter that 'Santa' was real. His hands rose up to touch his face. Suddenly his right shoulder jerked forward, the sudden movement caused him to loose his footing and fall on all fours. He looked up to see another older man walking away in a rush without even looking back. This man was alone, wearing a fancy suit and wielding a suitcase on his left hand. The suitcase was probably the thing that bumped into his shoulder. His left hand went under the jacket to inspect his right shoulder. It stung a little but he was unharmed. He looked back at where the father and daughter duo were. But they weren't there anymore. He stood up and looked forward. And once again, he let his feet take him to a destination he did not know of.

Night rolled in, he managed to find an empty alleyway to sleep in and even found the remains of a half eaten Chinese takeout container in a trash can. There wasn't much in there but it was better than nothing. Compared to the bento he had in the morning this was far... less.. in every manner he could think of. The container was thrown away and he just sat there. He couldn't sleep. Because he was thinking of that father daughter duo from earlier. No, mostly the smile on the father's face. A nervous smile but a smile that wasn't like any other that had been directed his way before. A smile that he had seen many people make. A smile he could-

It confused him. And frustrated him even more. His mind tried to picture the father's smile one last time. Both of his arms rise up to his face. Index finger pop out, separating itself from the middle finger before landing on the edges of his lips. The fingers pushed the edges upwards, forming a 'smile'. His head turned to look at the remains of a dressing table. The mirror was broken and missing in multiple spots. But it still provided him with a reflection. The moonlight wasn't strong enough to let him clearly see his own reflection. But it was enough. His hair had grown quite a bit but it still wasn't long enough to cover his eyes. However, that smile on his face. Created by his index fingers looked... forced... and felt... unnatural. Like it didn't belong there. In fact his face was starting to hurt a little as well. The fingers let go as the smile begins to disappear. This looked and felt far more natural, like it belonged there. This was it, the difference that stuck out the most.

- not replicate himself.

But why? Why could he not smile? Was there a secret to it? A secret he did not know of? Or was it something else? And it didn't just end there. He had thought about these before. He thought back to the office worker who had basically shoved him. To the little boy that had rudely pointed out of him being 'weird'. To what happened the night before. He thought of why none of that bothered him. But came up with no answers. Or did he just lack the knowledge to deduce those answers? Or did the problem lay within him? Like the problem of people not wanting to maintain eye contact with him? Or did the person he was before he lost his memories hold the answer?...

'Wait...' Yes, that could be it. No. That must be it. It sounded the most logical at the moment to him. There was no other possibilities he could think of. His inability to smile or lack of empathy for others, even himself on some occasions could be connected to who he was before losing his memories right.

Something soft landed on his nose. Then it became wet. He wiped it with a hand.

"Water?" he asked. Where did the water come from? Was it rain? He wasn't prepared for that. There wasn't a roof over his head and he couldn't afford to get the only cloths he had wet. Another one landed on his shoulder. This time, he was able to see what it was. And it wasn't rain. Far from it. It was... He wasn't sure what it was. But it was small and white. He kept watching in awe.

More of them fell on him, each melt into tiny drops of water. He reached up and toward the moonless sky. Letting more of the small things fall on his palms. Upon bringing them back to eye level he noticed that his palms were colder now. He looked back at the over sized jacket on his smaller frame. This wasn't going to cut it anymore. He could feel the air getting colder. His stood up and tried walking way in hopes of finding a place where the cold would bother him less. But before being able to exit the alleyway he tripped on something and fell on his face. After standing up and getting his bearings he looked at what he tripped on. It was a rather large trash bag. But the thing under it made him raise an eyebrow. He pushed the bag aside and blinked.

It was a manhole.

-? Months Later-

Four boys, no, young men walked on the streets side by side. Talking among themselves as they continued walking down the path. One cracked a joke and the other three laughed with him. They were having the time of their lives. Having finished high school they had little to worry about. They talked of random things. Things they would miss about high school. The people they will no longer see and the people they will meet in college. However three of them fail to notice the fourth one looking uncomfortable when the talk about college came up.

"Do you know me?"

The four stopped. Confusion spread across their faces as they stare at the much younger, in their perspective at least, Boy in front of them. The Boy was shorter. Wore a worn down jacket and was on the rather skinny side. His hair was also rather long, travelling all the way down his forehead and even obscured some parts of his face. Not to mention the younger Boy looked like he hadn't bathed in a long time.

"U-Uh." One of the young men stutters. "Sorry kid. We don't have any money on us." he said, raising his palms at the Boy. His companions nodded before walking passed him in a hurry.

The Boy watched their retreating forms in silence. Before seeing a woman in her mid twenties walking towards him. Her eyes focused on the little device on her hands. He repeated the same question he asked the group of young men just seconds ago. "Do you know me?"

She walked passed him without even acknowledging his existence. Her eyes still focused on her phone.

"Same as always." he muttered to himself. This was what he did nowadays. They would tell him they had no money. They would downright ignore him. On rare occasions, they would actually give him money, spare change was the most common one. But they would rarely answer his question. And usually that answer was 'No'.

Ever since that day at the start of winter. He had been asking random people. He did not know who he was before. But that didn't mean no one else in the entire world wouldn't right? If a single person did, and if he were to find that one person. He would be able to find out who he was, right? And if he found out who he was, he would also know why... he was the way he was. Why this felt so natural. It wasn't much. But it was a lead. His only lead. He had asked a lot of people. So many that he ended up leaving the city he started in and ended up in another. At least he thought it was another city. So hard to tell them apart sometimes.

There was the loud sound of a crash. Followed by the sound of people yelling. He turned to the direction from where it was coming from. Only to see a group of people gathered around a truck. Some were using their phone's to capture the event on video. Others were walking away with the looks of sadness on their faces. More people left and in a few minutes an ambulance stopped right beside him. He saw two men rush out with a stretcher. When they came back he saw the person they were carrying away. It was the same woman that passed by him while looking into her phone. Blood all over her body and unconscious. The way her head was positioned he was able to see her face rather easily. He stood there, motionless.

'... Nothing...' once again, bringing up the thought of the woman dying made him feel nothing. He turned around and continued walking, asking random people if they knew him. Only to receive the same answers as usual.

His day continued the same way as it usually did. At one point he witnessed two friends meet up after a long time. Actually, if anything it was more of an unintentional meeting. The first grown man was simply resting on a park bench while another simply walked upto the man. At that moment, he was behind a nearby bush. Intending to take a little nap. The second man called out to the first one. Saying first man's name. The first man seemed confused for a second and then exclaimed something that he could only assume was the second man's name, excitedly too. He didn't manage to sleep. The conversation between the two grownups were interesting. They talked about their present. About what they were up to after all these years. However, he began to think to himself.

'How?' How did the two men recognize each other like that? In a single glance no less? Was there something he was missing?

"Best Buds Forever." He remembered the two grown men say before walking away. With one having his arms slung over the other's shoulder. The other didn't seem to mind judging by the smile on the other's face. The three words resonated in his thoughts. Buds... Buds... Bud. Wasn't that another world for 'friend'? Was that it? Was it because they were 'friends'? Did... Did he have any friends before losing his memories?...

His aimless wandering while in deep thoughts brought him to a place he had not seen before. Yet still familiar as he had seen many more places like it. Tall walls around a large area of land accompanied by an equally tall iron gates. At the center of it all was a very large building. No where near the height of which he had seen in the city yet the lack of height was made up by it's width. Over twice as wide as the other buildings he had seen before. It was a little different than the last one he had seen. No two were the same. Some had 'beautiful' ornaments attached to their gates. Some had a well cared for garden in front or behind the building. Some were even larger than others. But they all served the same purpose. The building in front of him was-

- A School.

An establishment made to provide knowledge to young minds. A place used for acquiring both knowledge and skills that would help one become better in life... He gazed at the building, wondering if the knowledge obtained from a school could help him in any way. He watched as kids older than him were filing out one by one. By the looks of it, they were done with whatever they did in there and were going home. Actually, there weren't many kids coming out. Most of them had likely already left. What the kids he was seeing right now were doing in there even though others had left was unknown to him. A woman, older than the students, came out right after them, the students looked like they were really liked her as they waited for her to come out and accompanied her towards the outer gates. Compared to the students who all had the same clothes on, she stuck out the most with her long sleeved white shirt and sleeveless red vest combo. They passed through the large gates. Some of the students turned after bidding their goodbyes, the woman stayed there a little longer, waving at them as they left. The woman begins to turn the other way but stopped when she noticed him.

"Oh My, Hello there. What are you doing here little one?"

He blinked in confusion and the woman mirrored it but in a far more expressive way. Then again, anything that wasn't a straight face was more expressive than him. He looked around, thinking she was talking to someone else and then looked at her. Since there wasn't anyone else looking at her. She was clearly talking to him right? Instead of asking her why she was willingly talking to him he said something else entirely. "Hello. I am just passing by."

"Is that so? It's getting late you know." she said before looking at her wrist watch. It was well over four PM, the sun should be setting in an hour or so, "I hope you're going home."

He shook his head which made her frown. "I don't have a home." The woman frowned.

"What is your name?" she asked, hoping he could at least tell her that much.

'Hachi...'

"Hachi..." he spoke aloud without realizing it.

"Hachi?" the woman's brows furrowed. "You mean 'Hachiman'? Like the Shinto deity of war?"

'Hachiman...?' he repeated the name in his head. For some reason, he... didn't oppose to that name. Actually, he hadn't even thought of what his name could be. Even after all these months, even after the seasons changed the thought did not occur to him even once... He needed a name. And the one this woman had unknowingly given him a name... He nodded at her.

"What about your family name? Your parents?" she asked another question. He shook his head this time. Her frown deepened a little at that.

'An orphan...' her thoughts trailed. She should have guessed. The clothes he wore and the empty expression he held should have been a dead give away. She gave him a smile. "Come with me then. I'll take you a place where you can stay." She offered him a hand which he assumed she wanted him to take hold of.

He own hand rose, almost touching hers before he hesitated. His hands were dirty. His entire body was dirty. He wasn't sure if he should touch hers while his was like this. It made him feel... weird. Huh... that's new. She noticed his hesitation and took his hand. He was definitely caught off guard even though his expression remained the same, more so when her hand held onto his smaller one. Her hand was soft and warm. Unlike anything he had ever felt before. Looking at her now, up close and smiling, he understood a little bit. Understood why those students liked her so much.

- ? Weeks Later-

His... Hachiman' eyes opened to the sound of ringing like all the others in the room. He sat up and got out of the futon he was provided. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Sleeping on a soft bed had been doing wonders for his body. The food was definitely far better than whatever he could find in the streets. When the school teacher had brought him here some weeks ago, he was skeptical. Unsure of this place and it's purpose. Giving free shelter, food and a small degree of education? All for free? Without expecting anything in return? It sounded too good to be true. Not to mention it also gave orphaned kids a chance at finding a family. At first Hachiman was ecstatic and in his own way, hopeful in a sense. However, once he realized that random families would come once a week and pick the kid or even multiple kids they liked, his enthusiasm had washed away. He wouldn't be finding anyone that might have known who he was previously. Then again he wasn't sure what he was expecting to begin with. Fortunately most of the would be parents shy away from him after looking at his face... Actually He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The people that ran the orphanage said they would be teaching the kids about this country today. The map of the country more specifically. Normally he would not be included in a lesson with others 'his age' as he was usually taught how to write and read more often with the younger kids. As it turned out, the characters he had seen on various stores, banners, television screens and other sources all had different meanings and could be used in different ways when placed next to different characters. Who would have thought that learning to write and read could be so hard? But he was catching on rather quickly. Maybe that's why he was included on the lesson with others around his age.

Breakfast was good. He was getting used to the food they served. But the thought of going back outside into the world to find his purpose came back every now and then. The privileges provided here should certainly not be taken for granted but he still needed to find who he used to be. And what could have possibly happened that made being like this feel 'normal'.

His interactions with the other children were near nonexistent. The younger children were scared of him and those his own age stayed away from him. Even the adults sometimes were at unease around him. It wasn't like this from the get go, after the second day another boy started to bully him. His smaller stature and seemingly meek attitude made it easy for him to become a target. He was startled at first but otherwise did not say or do anything. By the fourth day more boys started picking on him. And by the end of the first week he was shoved once. Since he was still weak and skinny at that time, the shove had sent him tumbling back. He crashed into a table and ended up with a cut on the right side of his forehead. Right above his eyebrow. It was pretty deep and was left bleeding. Even though it had been days since the would had healed, it had left it's mark. Just like the scar under his right eye which he did not remember getting. After the fall he briefly winced at the stinging sensation from his head but otherwise did not say or do anything. Which may have unsettled the other occupants of the orphanage.

"Alright kids." the caretaker spoke loudly with a smile at all of the kids sitting in front of him. The man was pretty tall, not the tallest he had ever seen but tall nonetheless. The man's graying hair and pale skin betrayed his age. He didn't remember the man's name. In fact, most of them had a hard time pronouncing it and end up just calling him 'Caretaker-san' to make things easier for everyone. Caretaker-san stood next to a thick, large sheet of paper. For some reason the paper reflected light. Maybe it wasn't paper at all? "Who remembers the number of regions in our glorious country?"

Multiple hands went up. His wasn't one of them.

"Yes... Kanna-chan?" the Caretaker asked.

"Eight!" a girl, slightly younger than him, replied, even showing five fingers from one hand and three from the other to the adult. The caretaker praised her for answering correctly. She beamed at the praise.

"And all the regions are split into smaller sections called-?" he paused, waiting for the sentence to be completed by the children.

"PREFECTUERS/PREFECTRERES/ PREFECTURES!" the word was long and hard to pronounce, leading many of the children to pronounce it wrong. The caretaker does not correct them and began to name each of the prefectures. The children repeated after him. He did as well, albeit not anywhere near as loudly as the others.

"Gunma."

"Gunma!"

"Tokyo."

"Tokyo!"

"Chiba."

"Chiba!"

They continued pronouncing the names. When one would stutter or had a hard time pronouncing, the Caretaker told them it was okay and to make mistakes. No one noticed that Hachiman had stopped speaking. Unknown to them he was thinking about a prefecture. Specifically the one called 'Chiba'. Something about that name sounded... familiar somehow. He wondered what kind of place it was. Wondered how it would be to live there. Wondered if he could ever go to that place. While he was stuck in his thoughts the lesson was over.

"Caretaker-san. He's-"

Hachiman heard the words come out of a boy's mouth clearly as the boy pointed towards him. The other children looked at him weirdly as well, whispering to each other, the children sitting next to him looked at him with shocked expressions. As if they had just noticed it was he who sat next to them. He wondered if he'd be thrown out of this place before he left in his own will. The caretaker looked troubled for a second before fake coughing into a clenched fist.

"All right children!" the man exclaimed, clapping palms together. "Today we are going to have a special guest come by who will tell to you all about something very important. I hope you all behave yourselves because he came all the way here from another city." The children became quiet, waiting for the Caretaker to continue. The caretaker smiled at their obedience before turning to the nearby door and speaking. "You can come in now."

Hachiman's normally stoic expression changed as his eyes widen in realization. This 'special guest'... It was...

... the same Priest he met all those months ago.

The Priest mirrored his expression when he noticed Hachiman and was speechless for a brief moment before a side of his lips curl into a smile. But not directly at Hachiman.

Nearly two hours went by as they listened to the Priest talk about something called 'Christianity'. From The Boy's view, It was an odd thing to say the least. At the end it left him confused... and heavily intrigued. Unknown to Hachiman, after his 'lecture' the Priest had asked the Caretaker if he could talk to the fish eye'd boy for a few minutes. The caretaker reluctantly agreed.

Upon meeting the Priest in the Caretaker's office, the boy stared at the Priest. The Priest did the same. Much like the first time they met, a staring contest broke out between the two. The caretaker tried to talk, asking if something was wrong. But every time he uttered even the briefest of sounds, the stares would then be directed at him, causing him to shut up. He had been getting used to receiving that empty stare from Hachiman but not from the Priest who was even taller than the Caretaker. In truth, being stared by the two of them might have scared the Caretaker.

Feeling uncomfortable the Caretaker excused himself. When he left the Priest began talking. "We meet again."

How could one follow up on that? Hachiman certainly didn't know. So he simply nodded in reply.

'No change.' the thought made the Priest smile. "Have you found your purpose?"

Hachiman shook his head. He saw the Priest's smile widen a little. Hachiman spoke. "But... I..."

The Priest perked up a little, it was almost unnoticeable. Almost as if he was eager for Hachiman to continue. "Yes?"

And continue Hachiman did, he told the Priest of his thoughts these recent months. Of his theory of him being who he was before the fire being connected to how he was today. Of him being the way he was today plaguing his thoughts. Of how his 'search' had been slow due to his lack of knowledge and money. The Priest listened with all of his attention. Not a single word missed the older man's ears as he listened to each word that came from Hachiman' lips. And as Hachiman spoke, each words made the Priest want to smile wider. After Hachiman was done, it took everything the Priest had to not laugh.

The Priest was happy... no, ecstatic. 'To think I would find a lead so soon.' After having spent decades trying to find the answer to his own question. He was sure of having to spend just as much if not more time searching for it's explanation as well. And now? He was glad that he let this boy in front of him leave that day. "I see..."

"Yorokobe Shounen." the Priest's said calmly. "For you see, I have... stumbled upon a small fortune not to long ago. And as it appears I have more money than I need. If you would have my aid then I would like to finance your 'search'. All within reason of course."

Hachiman perked up. Out of all the things he was expecting the Priest to say, this was far out of the metaphorical list. He wanted to ask why this man whom he knew next to nothing of would want to help him. But as he stared into the similar lifeless eyes of the Priest, something in the corner of his mind nagged him to not ask that question, that was odd. His lips parted to ask another question instead. "But... I can do nothing for you in return." 'Equivalent Exchange' applied to an exchange of services as well. A service such as this.

"Hmm." The Priest broke eye contact with him by closing his eyes. Silence followed. Hachiman patiently waited. After opening his eyes opened the Priest spoke. "I shall return tomorrow with my conditions about our arrangement." The Priest turned to the exit door.

As Hachiman watched the Priest turn to leave, a thought occurred to him. "... Wait." Hachiman saw the Priest pause but not turn to directly face him again. The Priest turned his head just enough to see Hachiman speak. "I have a request."

It was a long shot. He half expected the Priest to deny him but it was necessary. After all,

'His name' was still incomplete.

- ? Years Later -

Kotomine Hachiman, age fourteen, second year middle school student, silently ate his boxed lunch. All of his attention was on the box on his desk, even though the taste of the rice and vegetables was lost him. He heard the noise made by students, idle chatter from the mouths of his classmates. Whom knew about him as much as he knew of them. Which was nothing outside his name. Actually, some probably didn't even remember that even though he remembered all of theirs...

"&*%**^* Kotomine- **^(^(*^"

Did someone call him? Since all of his attention was on lunch he didn't bother trying to listen to anyone who wasn't directly talking to him. So when he heard 'his name' being mentioned in a hushed whisper he raised his head and looked around for anyone looking at him. He spotted a group of girls, gathered around another girl who was writing something, sending side glances towards his direction and giggling. When his eyes met one of theirs the giggling stopped. Now they were just focusing on the girl in the center with smirks. From his position he was able to see the girl in the center also sporting a similar smirk. That was odd. Maybe he just misheard? His eyes return back to his lunch which he should be finishing. Lunch would end soon. But as he returned to his lunch, he failed to notice one of the girls heading out.

After classes ended, Hachiman approached his shoe-locker. Fully intending to head 'home'. The student handbook had many rules. Some he understood like the one that told all the students to bring the books required for the classes of that day. Some confused him like the one that declared that students were not allowed to have hair longer than a certain length. But he saw no reason to question it. He opened his the shoe-locker and reached inside. But felt something else along with the soft texture of his outdoor shoes. He peered inside and saw a... letter?

He pulled it out and reads the contents. Each word he read filled him with more and more confusion. After reading the final sentence, he began to wonder what he was supposed to do. The person who sent the letter clearly wanted him to meet him or her after class. But the student handbook clearly stated that all students were to head home after all activities in school were over. A rule he agreed with, knowing full well that the streets were a dangerous place. He stayed in that spot for nearly five minute. The students around him who were also leaving sent him curious glances but did not talk to him. One of them even managed to get a look at the letter and sent him a sympathetic look, adding more to his confusion.

'I live nearby and I have nothing better to do today anyway.' was what he thought. With that he put on his shoes and headed outside. But instead of going straight and exit the school grounds like he normally would have, he took a left and headed to the place specified in the letter.

He did not go home that night.

-Nearly Two Years Later-

"So..." a dark skinned man began, his arm resting on the table of the family restaurant he and two other men were in. "You're telling us that you have no family or relatives and the person who had been financially providing for you for the last three years has cut you off with no rhyme or reason?"

"That is correct." Hachiman answered.

"So you had came out for a walk, out of the safety of your apartment, by yourself in the dead of night to think." another began. He was younger than his darker skinned companion. This man's skin was no where near as dark as the man sitting next to him. But still a tone darker than the bruised Hachiman sitting across them. "And while you were minding your own business those drunk morons pulled you aside and..."

Hachiman nodded. That was the gist of it. The walk was necessary. He didn't remember much from his days of being homeless but he did remember that most of his 'important' thinking was done out in the streets. And he really needed to think this time. Especially since he had participated in the entrance exam to one of the most prestigious high school in the prefecture in hopes of obtaining knowledge normal high schools could not provide. And using that knowledge to... further his... search... wait a second...

"Hmm..." the younger man rubbed his chin. "Gotta admit. That's a hell of a problem you're in kid."

"So you need a source of income or you'll end up in the streets." the older man stated, earning a nod from Hachiman.

The younger man took a thinking pose like his companion. "Hey Takeshi... Aren't we lacking a couple of more people to work at the-"

- Two Weeks Later-

Hachiman stood in front of a notice board, wearing a black blazer over a white T-shirt. A little uncomfortable, he considered undoing the first button so he could breath a little better. But the space between the first and second button was huge so he wondered if he should wear something underneath it. He stared at the notice board. More specifically at the list of names and the numbers lined next to the names. He was searching for his own. The acceptance letter came not long after he got employed so his name was bound to be here. And even though he cared little for his rank he still wanted to see how his intellect matched up to the 'elite' students that applied for this high school. He needed to find it quick. The entrance ceremony was going to start in ten minutes. He couldn't find his name on the top 10 but that was expected, not on the top 20 either but that too was expected. He kept searching... Not even top 50? He knew he wasn't smart but that was kind of a... letdown? He kept searching, when he found his name next to another name he assumed he had tied ranks with this person. Whether they would be placed in the same classroom he didn't know. However when he noticed their rank he raised an eyebrow.

Normally such a thing was too childish for his liking. But someone once said that the internet had developed an ability that changed people... or something like that. Even a little exposure could be 'catastrophic'. Especially the recent weeks as it became more accessible to the general public. Those weren't the words Hachiman would consider using but it was true... somewhat... His lips parted-.

"Heh, 69."/"Heh, 69."

Hachiman blinked in confusion then turned his head to his right where the second voice came from. It was another boy, he assumed the boy to be his own age otherwise this boy would not be looking at the notice board like him. This boy had... white hair?... He also wore a... trench coat? over his school uniform. Hachiman hadn't read the student handbook yet because the handbook was going to be given out on the first day of class but he was pretty sure there were more than a few rules being bent if not outright broken by this strange boy. 'The strange boy' too was looking at Hachiman in confusion then fear and then... awe?

Changes from the original: Minor spelling errors fixed. A couple of lines added.