Hey everyone. Sorry for the delay. Had to deal with a short bout of winter blues, plus writer's block. Luckily I'm past that now. I really appreciate all the follows, favorites, and overall positive reviews. I plan to deliver the best possible story I can for your reading pleasure.

Shoutouts to DeadlyViperQuill for agreeing to become my beta reader for the story. Hopefully with further guidance, tips, suggestions, etc. I can continue to improve the quality of my work.

...

I arrived at what was agreed to be our usual spot at the park and surveyed the landscape for the slightest hint of red among the sea of yellows, browns, and jet blacks.

"She's running late it seems. I wonder if I should charge her a late fee? I mean after all, I've got a whole evening of homework all planned out... followed by long hours of staring out into the abyss wondering about my place in the universe. I can't afford to skip out on that one..." I sighed.

Deciding it was a good idea to cease doing my best impression of a lost dog waiting for its owner to show up, I reclined in a nearby park bench to collect my thoughts.

Holding my aching ribs with downcast, puzzling eyes, Arnaud's observation reverberated in my mind. "You fight just like an Eleven."

"An Eleven, eh? I wonder if I went to some dojo or something owned by one of them. Was I a fan of their culture?"

Grasping at straws, I proposed to myself, "Alternatively, could I just be an Eleven?"

Could that be it? I mean, it would explain why so far nobody has seemed to make any effort to locate me. No ads in the newspaper, and not even an obligatorily out of date bad quality photo of me where I'm making a squinty face with a dorky smile on the back of a milk carton with the caption: 'Have you seen me?'

"But then again, I am basing this all on the observations of a guy who has less brain cells than a post-lobotomy patient." I snickered.

I trailed off into different possibilities, settling on no solid conclusions since none of them satisfied me until a familiar voice gave me a greeting.

"Oh, Rai."

Slightly turning my head in the direction of the voice, I saw the radiant silhouette of a familiar woman strolling toward me with the sunlight illuminating her frame.

Noticing a drop of sweat sliding down my face, I thought, "Is it hot out here, or is it just her?"

I gave myself a cognitive slap upside the head for that corny observation, and I tried my best to compose myself for what would be our first interaction in hours.

"H-hey Kallen." I stuttered nervously while rubbing the back of my head.

"I apologize for being late. There was a phone call I couldn't ignore."

Softening my eyes slightly, I asked, "Is everything okay?"

Keeping it vague and as monotone as ever, she replied, "Everything's fine."

It seems that she's still as closed off as a high security bank vault. Perhaps I should test her defenses a little?

"I'm glad to hear it. And no, it's okay. I mean, I was hoping she would've had a chance to get my good side, but now that you're here, I'll have to tell her to cut it short."

Kallen's eyebrows pressed together with confusion, "I'm sorry?"

With a mischievous grin, I pointed in the direction of a nearby girl painting God knows what on a canvas, "See that girl over there? I commissioned her for a portrait, but since the walk is still on, it can't be helped." I turned my head and pointed at the throbbing contusion occupying nearly fifty percent of my countenance while flashing a toothy grin, "It's a shame too because I have the whole light and dark contrast thing going on at the moment."

Upon seeing a face that would make even the Phantom of the Opera count his blessings - thank you again literature class - Kallen shifted in place uncomfortably. "What happened to your face?"

"Oh, this? This is nothing. Gym class got a little out of hand is all." I dismissed.

Shooting me a skeptical look with a splash of concern, she asked, "Did you get in a fight at the school?"

"Well, sort of. I mean, what started out as a grappling class devolved into a fist fight with one of your... 'fans,' and well, he got a good few hits on me. Heh heh."

Eyebrows furrowing yet again, she said, "Oh, I see. I'll talk to them tomorrow and tell them to leave you alone."

The sensation of butterflies filled my stomach, and I quickly asserted. "No, no. It's all good. Apparently we're all chums now. Must be a part of the manly honor code for proving myself or something, but at least on the plus side, if my memories don't come back, I have a promising career of martial arts over at Babel Tower given that apparently I fight just like the Elevens over there."

Somehow, my subtle attempt at flirting earned me the totally opposite reaction I was hoping for. Kallen became visibly angry.

"So you call them that too?"

"Huh?" I replied confusedly.

A few moments of awkward silence passed, and the sense of unease and tension gripped my chest. "Did I say something wrong?"

She glared at me disdainfully and somewhat disappointedly. "It's that term: 'Eleven.' Ever since the invasion, the Japanese people are called Elevens by everyone else, and the nation of Japan is called Area 11. Britannia took this land from them, and not just their land, but their culture and identity along with it. Places like Babel Tower are just cruelty masquerading as entertainment. They make the Japanese fight there because to the elites, they're seen as nothing but cattle."

I didn't know what to say. I mean, how could I? Here I was, thinking I'd finally succeed in getting Kallen to crack a smile, but instead I just made it on her shit list. Nice going Rai.

My whole body sank. "Kallen, I didn't... *Sigh... There aren't words I can think of to fix this. I didn't mean to come across as so insensitive. I understand what you're trying to say though. I guess I still have a lot to learn about the world around me."

Kallen broke the ice with a half whisper. "You didn't know."

After a few more uncomfortable moments went by, she squeezed her schoolbag and said, "Your memories - they're still missing."

I shook my head ashamedly, "No, that's not an excuse. I didn't even stop to think about it, but you're right. Having your home and even your name taken from you only to be seen as a second class citizen? It's just not right. I mean, I suppose I can relate though. I don't know if I had my home or land or anything like that taken from me, but I do know something about having no sense of identity because some outside force beyond your control stole it from you. I won't compare myself to the Japanese, but I just- I know what that's like."

At this, Kallen's eyes softened, "Rai..."

I continued, "I mean, I'm sure the old me must've admired the Japanese a lot if I took the time to learn Japanese martial arts because apparently that's what I did today at gym class. At least, that's what I was told by someone who claims to know for sure. It could just be nothing though, and I could just be grasping at straws."

She bit her lip, puzzling what to say. "Could you describe them to me? Your moves I mean."

Okay. That's a little random, but what the hell right?

I thought back to my first fight and explained how after throwing my opponent to the ground, I had grabbed his bent elbow and brought it toward my chest, while stepping my leg over his head.

Not giving me a chance to finish, Kallen's eyes widened slightly as she spoke in a loud whisper, "Juji Gatame."

"Juji Ga-what now?"

She composed herself back to her usual stoic demeanor. "Juji Gatame. It's the name of the move you did. It's a technique in the Japanese grappling art: 'Judo.'"

And with that, my jaw dropped. "Judo? Are you sure? Really?!"

"Mm-hmm." Kallen nodded confidently.

Continuing my explanation further, I said "Well after that, I sat backward and squeezed my knees to control his shoulder and then-"

"That's the finishing position of Juji Gatame - the straight arm bar. It's a strong arm lock that puts extra pressure on your opponents' elbow joint."

Well that certainly sounded official. I don't know how she knew this, but finally learning something concrete about myself made me beam. All I needed was a wagging tail, a pair of floppy ears and a rapid series of loud, short breaths and I could pass for an old dog at a kill shelter, who was finally getting adopted.

I then proceeded to explain how I grabbed my second opponent's shoulder and sleeve, took a side step and bumped his hip to throw him off his balance, followed by another back step and threw him forward.

"Double Tai Otoshi. If you hadn't taken that second back step and just threw him the first time, it would've just been Tai Otoshi. Judo is well known for its many throws. Its versatility in throws and groundwork is what makes it so effective as a martial art."

Starry-eyed and more giddy than I've ever been - at least in the past 40+ hours anyway - I clenched my fists holding them close to my torso "Well don't stop now. Keep 'em coming!"

I proceeded to describe the many techniques I employed, and with textbook knowledge, Kallen listed them all by name: Ippon-Seoi-Nage, O-Soto-Gari, Morote-Gari, and a whole host of other names that sounded more like menu items at an exotic foods stand, rather than badass martial arts techniques, but I didn't care. To me, this was huge. I mean, sure, I was already aware that I knew how to scrap, but apparently I was much more than your average brawler - I was a goddamn martial arts master. Well, that was the impression I was getting, anyway. Not only did I know Judo, but according to Kallen, I was also adept at Japanese Karate, as well as a large assortment of freestyle moves that not even the Red-Haired Oracle of all things hand-to-hand was familiar with, which brings me to a looming question.

"How do you know so much about Japanese fighting systems?"

Breaking her robotic, note card-reciting-esque, 'I know the answers to all the mysteries in the universe' frame, Kallen's eyes shifted sideways. "Ah- when you're sick you have time to read on a bunch of things. I've studied old magazines detailing the Japanese martial arts."

I looked at her thoughtfully. For some reason, she seemed uncomfortable with divulging too much to me about her encyclopedic knowledge about Japanese martial arts, which is a little strange because I could've sworn I detected a slight hint of curiosity and interest in her initial tone. Maybe she's just embarrassed about being into more masculine things?

"So do you think that this is a clue? I mean, maybe I'm an Elev- I mean, Japanese? But then again, maybe not? Maybe I just went to one of their dojos or something and just picked it up because I was bored?"

Cutting through my alternative explanations, Kallen replied, "It's highly unlikely. The latter, I mean. Japanese martial arts, culture, and everything else about them is seen as inferior to the Britannian way of life. There aren't any dojos or schools that teach them." She paused thoughtfully and then continued, "It's possible you were born in Area 11 - in Japan."

For some reason that didn't seem right. I mean, sure, it was cool that I had some sort of connection to Japan, but is that really the answer?

I tilted my head, "But there are things I intuitively know about Britannia. I can't ignore that. So far, my only connection to the Japanese is that I fight like them. Is that really enough to go on to make a reasonable conclusion about my history?"

Kallen gave me a puzzled look, "So you don't think you're Japanese or Britannian?"

Looking up at the sky, I thought aloud with a shrug, "Maybe I'm both?"

Something about my observation put Kallen in deep thought. As she looked upward, I couldn't help but notice that she looked as though she was doing her best impression of yours truly.

I waited a few moments to say anything. There was just something special about the way she gazed discerningly at the heavens that made me feel elated.

After some time passed, I interrupted, "Is that what it looks like?"

Snapping halfway back to reality, Kallen stuttered, "I-I'm sorry?"

"When I'm deep in thought, I mean. Is that how I look?"

Unsure of what to say, all Kallen could come up with was a puzzled "I..."

"I'll give you an 'A' for effort, but a solid 'B minus' for your overall performance. I mean, where was the chin stroking? The side to side bobbing of the head as you considered the possibilities? Your delivery was all wrong. Come to think of it, 'B minus' is way too generous," I smirked.

The only I responses I got to that were a few slow blinks, as well as an almost inaudible "ehhh." I mean, where were the crickets? What, they couldn't show up just because the sun was still out? Talk about a lame excuse.

I gave her an awkward chuckle to quell my festering embarrassment. There wasn't much else I could do. Rivalz was right: she is tough as nails and as cold as ice, but now it was my life's mission to hear what I imagined to be the angelic sound of her laughter. Challenge accepted.

...

We decided to test the theory about me having some relation to the Japanese, be that either the genetic or the culturally obsessed, anti-Britannian anarchist route. Okay, maybe just the former. The latter theory was something I kept to myself - just to keep an open mind.

We made our way toward the outskirts of the ghetto. The theory was, if I really was Japanese, and I happened to stroll into the Ashford Academy with the same grace and dignity as the town drunk, then it stands to reason to check out the closest part of the ghetto from which I could have potentially wandered from.

As we drew nearer, the clean, well-maintained atmosphere of the Tokyo settlement faded into obscurity and gave way to rubble, ruin and filth. It was like night and day. The Tokyo Settlement - ever teeming with life and excitement - dwindled into a literal ghost town. This place checked off all the boxes as a post-apocalyptic hell hole. You had your abandoned buildings with broken glass, the rotten stench of pollution (as well as other scents I didn't want to assign an identity to), and the sad sight of the destitute and despairing former citizens of what was once no doubt a proud and thriving city. You know, if I had a penchant for rodents, I'd probably do myself a favor and pick up one of the countless rats for a pet as a pick-me-up from witnessing all this dismal imagery.

Not having the stomach for an 'I like what they've done with the place' joke to try to lighten the mood, I looked around to take it all in and asked, "What is this?"

Resentment building up in her voice, Kallen observed grimly "These are the vestiges of the old Japan."

"But why does it look like this? It doesn't seem right. Isn't it supposed to- Nghhn... hnnn..." I pinched the bridge of my nose just below my forehead.

"Rai?"

Taking a few seconds to compose myself, I shook my head. "I'm fine. You can continue."

She looked at me curiously and went on. "It's because Britannia-"

"Britannia invaded, Japan lost the war and became known as Area 11. Yeah, yeah I get that. But why the stark contrast between the settlement and the ghetto? Why is there even a ghetto? Surely the Britannian government could've developed this and other similar areas after the war like they did the settlement?"

Kallen's eyes became downcast as she clenched her fist, "This is what it means to be ruled over. Britannia left everything like this to remind the Japanese of their power - to keep them aware of who the victors were and what they can do against any resistance."

While she gave her explanation, I let my eyes wander as we walked down Potential Memories Lane, observing the impoverished citizens of the former Japan and seeing how dirty and thin they were. The tattered and worn look of their outfits reminded me of the torn up rags I was wearing when I was first taken in by Milly and the gang. I didn't have the words. What seemed like a relatively farfetched proposition about my identity was becoming dreadfully more and more likely.

Turning back to Kallen, I asked, "So there's no avenue to integrate for these people from the empire? They're just kept alive to do what? Accept their role in the new dominance hierarchy while the rest of us live in comparative luxury?"

She gritted through her teeth, "It's called the 'Honorary Britannian' system." She shook her head, anger building up more. "Honorary Britannian - don't make me laugh. You're given an empty title to graduate from being a number to being seen as just a little more than that. And for what?" She began to raise her voice more, "To get a chance to assimilate into the system? To get access to clean air, clean water, and an abundance of energy all the while the rest of your people suffer because they never forgot what Britannia did and what they can do at any time?! To those in power, those people will always be seen as a number."

I winced uncomfortably, not knowing what to say.

She continued, "What's the difference between them and us? Why does one get to rule and the other get to be ruled over?! Who says our lives matter more than theirs?!"

I squeezed my fist and asked myself, "Is that the life that I left behind? Is this what's waiting for me?"

Noticing my stiffening disposition, Kallen composed herself, "Ah- I'm sorry. I've shown you something unpleasant."

Hoping she didn't somehow have mind reading capabilities I wasn't aware of, I took in a deep breath and re-focused. "No. No. Not at all. Actually, I was just thinking about your care and concern for others - it's very kind. The way you can sympathize with people you don't have any relation to, to try to feel what they feel - it says a lot about your character."

After thanking me for my compliment, she struggled to find her words and stammered a series of "Um's," "Uh's," and "If you could's."

Seeing where she was going with this, I forced myself to smile and pantomimed a zippering motion, "My lips are sealed."

Hey eyes softened, and like last night, she again gave her lips permission to form an upward curvature that momentarily made all my troubles vanish and said, "Thank you."

With my hands on the back of my head, I turned around, took a slow step forward, and gave her a half-hearted, yet half-flustered "Yeah."

Staring out in the direction of the late afternoon sun, I suggested, "It's getting late. Let's go back." I reached into my pocket, pulling out some cash, "I'll get us something sweet to eat as a pick me up. My treat - well, technically Milly's, but who's keeping track?"

Hoping she didn't detect the sense of dread I was trying so hard to mask, she said "Okay" in a friendly tone.

...

We made our way back toward the school, stopping by a local ice cream stand along the way. I didn't really know what my likes and dislikes were, so Kallen suggested vanilla for me, while she opted for strawberry. Taking a quick, darting look from the top of our heads back to the ice cream cones, I detected a possible theme here, but I didn't have it in me to give any witty observances.

As we strolled toward the park, frozen delectables all but fully consumed, Kallen turned to me as said, "I'll be taking the day off from school tomorrow."

"Oh? Cutting classes already? You're supposed to be giving me a good example here." I snickered.

"It's not that. I have a doctor's appointment I can't miss."

Well wasn't I just a regular jackass all day today?

"Ah. I see. I hope it all goes well then."

With a slight hint of excitement, Kallen quickly followed, "But the day after I'll be here. I was thinking - instead of just looking at the outskirts of the Shinjuku ghetto, would you like to walk through it?"

Angst gripped at my chest, and I hesitated, but only for a moment. I looked into her eyes considerately. Did I detect a faint sense of hopefulness?

Evading, I pointed out, "You're really sticking to your guns on this Japanese thing, aren't you?"

Making a face as if she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Kallen replied, "No. It's nothing like that."

Composing herself to collect her thoughts, she continued, "Today I felt like we made some progress. There are too many leads that I don't think we should ignore. I think it's best to explore all our options to help you remember."

There it was again: hope. I don't know why my possibly being Japanese was so important to her, but she does raise a fair point. We shouldn't leave any stone unturned. Even though at this point, it wouldn't surprise me if finding out the answer mattered more to her than it did for me. Plus, who could say "no" to those eyes?

"Okay, okay you're right. I agree. Let's go there then." I surrendered.

"Right." She nodded.

As she was turning around to head home for the day, I stopped her, "Kallen?"

"Yes?"

I smiled - probably my first non-sarcastic, non-making a fool of myself smile I've made since I arrived at Ashford - and gave her a sincere "Thank you."

With a tilt of her head, she mirrored my facial expression. "No problem."

And with that, we parted ways. After distracting myself with my studies, I sat on my bed. Eyes downcast, I let my mind wander on all of today's revelations, wondering how exactly I would fit in if my potential Japanese heritage was proven and where my place would be? What would be the consequences if we pressed this issue further until we unearthed the truth? Ruminations spiraled in my head until my eyes surrendered to a blissful state of slumber.