The world around you is in sharp contrast with itself.
Around you, you see the cleanness and tidiness of your hospital room: green and white walls paired with the beeps of a machine and the aseptic smell of the air. Inside you, black holes and a dark void: you don't seem to remember anything from your past, as everything blurs into a bottomless pit.
In this absolute quiet, only one thing catches your eye: your doctor is talking with somebody outside your room. The window is too small though, and you can only see him, not the person he's talking with.
Why are they here? Why are YOU there?
You can't remember. You've been laying on that bed for what has probably been a week now. No one answered your questions. No one showed up. Well, not until today that is.
Your heart skips a beat as you hear somebody timidly walking in.
"Hello?" the voice you hear is soft, and probably belongs to a girl who isn't older than 19. Her eyes are dark and deep, and her hair is black and short. She is really attractive.
"How are you?" You do not respond. You do not know how to respond.
"What is your name?" What an odd question. You should be asking that! But then it hits you: you don't know what's your name. But maybe you could make an effort and think about it...
>Insert name
>>43985969
>Alice
>>43985969
>Johnathan Hosser
>>43985969
>Adam Cartright
>>43985969
Otru Feia
>>43986024
>>43986045
You ponder. Is your name "Alice"? No, that feels wrong. You're surely a guy. This you know for sure.
Johnathan. Johnathan seems to be the most fitting name in your head. You say it out with confidence. The girl in front of you smiles.
"Hello, Johnathan. Do you remember me? Do you know who I am?"
The tone in her voice is hopeless. It's so desperate you wish you could just answer "YES!" with all your might. But you know it not to be true. You look away, feeling too miserable to answer. Her smile dies in her face.
"I see. Well, do not forget that I came to visit you today, ok?"
The girl quietly takes her leave, and you bitterly regret not being able to do and say more.
However the doctor quickly comes in, checks on you, and starts talking with you. It's not as good as chatting with a pretty girl but it will do.
"How are you feeling, hm... Johnathan?"
How odd that he hesitates on your name. You're fairly sure he should know it, and yet his reluctance in uttering your name seems oddly calculated
>"I am fine"
>"Who was the girl here earlier?"
>>43986233
>>"Who was the girl here earlier?"
>>43986233
>"Who was the girl here earlier?"
>>43986263
>>43986271
The doctor smiles and laughs nervously. "Ah, a former classmate of yours".
A former? Classmate?
Why former? what happened? Are you not friends anymore? What have you done to wrong her?
Too many questions, too little answers. You know better than asking the doctor. But something, at once, hits you with the strength of a truck. Something you must absolutely know.
"My classmates..."
The word echoes strangely in your head. As something you should know, but can't really remember. It has a good meaning, yes? Then why do you suffer so much thinking about it?
Are they... lost forever?
"Don't worry Johnathan. You will have new classmates"
You don't want new classmates. You want your old ones. Yes, but who are they? One came to visit you. They must be nice.
"You will attend a new school, it's a..."
The rest of his speech is lost on you. You lose consciousness, and when you regain it, you're being violently shaken by someone.
>Wake up
>Pretend to be still unconscious.
>>43986465
>>Wake up
>>43986525
Seconded.
>>43986465
Wake up.
>>43986525
>>43986556
>>43986561
You open your eyes suddenly and you immediately feel glad about your decision: you find yourself in a gathering hall, a lot of people standing close in what seems... a funeral.
A huge picture is set in the front of the hall, with a closed coffin next to it.
Another gap in your memory. Another sudden event. You turn to your left to see the person who shook you and to thank him or her, whoever that could be. It's a girl, standing next to you. Her gaze is pure fury upon you. All of a sudden you find yourself thoroughly frightened.
"I...I am sorry, I...I don't know what happened to me."
Short black hair and deep, black, inquisitive eyes, covered by round glasses, which look at you so intensely you almost feel pierced by them.
She does not answer.
>Ask her something [insert]
>Don't ask anything
>>43986782
>Don't ask anything
>>43986782
I'd say don't ask anything. Let's be honest, there's a HUGE chunk of context missing. Unless we get some form of context prompt, anything we say could be exactly the wrong thing to say.
>>43986898
Better not to poke the angry bear.
You turn around and pretend to follow the celebration.
The dead one is a young guy, not older than yourself. He's fairly handsome, you think.
What a shame, to be so young and already dead. And yet life goes on.
It quickly hits you that the place is entirely foreign for you. You've never seen it before.
Then again, you have no memory of any place, beside your hospital room.
There is something wrong with the people around you. You feel it but you can't put your finger on it. It's not a matter of attending a funeral, everyone is wearing their best funeral face. There is something *else*. You feel you could grasp it, if just you were to look at the people around you closer, but you are afraid of appearing too inquisitive.
>Mind your own business
>Try to look harder at the people around you.
b-bump?
>>43987012
>>Try to look harder at the people around you.
>>43987012
>Try to look harder at the people around you.
>>43987380
>>43987452
You look around. You look HARDER.
Something's off with the guests at this funeral.
No one seems particularly old. They're all teenagers. Is this a school mourning someone's death? Is someone mourning YOUR death? You discard the idea as absurd.
What's more, turning back, you see older people sitting in the back rows. You were wrong at least on this: not everyone here is young.
But then what is it? This feeling that's something is missing, the feeling that something is off. You are about to classify your earlier thoughts as paranoia, and turn to the girl sitting next to you, but then something hits you: her forearm is gone. An amputee? The bandage around the stump suggests as much.
Quickly all pieces are put together: all the young people around you are... disabled.
How could you not notice earlier? A funeral for disabled? This is too weird, too quick.
You feel the hand of the girl next to you on your shoulder. She obviously cried a lot, but she is trying hard to smile. "Are you ok?"
No, not really, I have no idea where I am. I have no idea what is going on. You must ponder what to ask
>Where am I?
>What is going on?
>>43987515
>>What is going on?
>>43987515
>"Damn bitch, you a cripple"
>>43987515
>>What is going on?
>>43987617
You feel like you asked the wrong question. The girl turns around and does not answer you for a second. Then she faces you again, this time with tears in her eyes.
"It's a funeral. The guy who died used to be our classmate"
Classmate, that word again. What is a classmate? Must be something good. Must be like an important person, why would they be at his funeral then.
"We've been his classmates only for a week. He was transferred here after he spent four months in a hospital. He had a pretty sever heart condition, I've been told"
Only a week is good enough to become this close? This girl seems genuinely in pain. Or maybe it's just a matter of courtesy.
"Did he die of heart failure?"
"No, apparently he fell off the rooftop".
This keeps getting stranger.
>Why is everyone here disabled?
>Was he a good friend of yours?
>>43987775
Shit forgot trip, this is me btw
>>43987775
HISAO, NO!
>>43987775
>>Was he a good friend of yours?
>>43987847
bingo...
>>43987867
"No I can't say that. But he was a good person. And he was too young to die".
The tears she was holding in her eyes now flow freely.
"His name was Hisao."
Hearing his name feels odd. I feel strangely conflicted about it: on one hand, I had no idea who he was. On the other, I am saddened for his departure.
"They said new student is transferring here, but I don't want it. It's too soon. It would be too painful to bear".
You start noticing that you're sitting uncomfortably on something. It must be in your back pockets. You start searching them and you find a depliant reading "Yamaku Academy: special needs, extraordinary talents"
You quickly hide it.
"Ehm, by the way, how is this school called?"
"Don't you know? I thought you were a student. It's the Yamaku Academy"
So that's it. You're the transfer student. You're the cripple, too. What a terrible omen, to begin your new school career like this.
What should be done with the girl? Should she know?
>Hide the pamphlet
>Reveal to the amputee girl who you are
>>43988067
>>Reveal to the amputee girl who you are
"Ahem... I think I am said transfer student. Sorry for the poor timing".
The amputee girl has a natural tanned skin, but you can see it lose color as she turns towards you and become paler and paler.
"Don't worry, I understand how you feel. I don't grudge you"
You say these words with the utmost sincerity, but you see she still struggles to speak.
"I am Johnathan, by the way. And you are?"
"M-miki... I am sorry for what I said earlier..."
You raise your right hand in a gesture of forgiveness
"It's nice to meet you. We will be classmates, right?"
She thinks a while before answering "I believe so, Jonhathan. I hope so"
She smiles sadly, then she turns around when the memorial begins. Everybody stands up, and so do you.
This is just the beginning, and yet, you can't help but feel the road will be uphill from now...
======
End of Part 1. Thanks everybody.
