- "Hey, Samu? Was I ever in love?"
- "Why do you ask, Tsumu?"
- "Because I feel like I was. But I don't remember anymore."
The amnesia fic I never thought I'll write, but here we are.
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I dream of the accident again.
Tires skid on road, bumper front crashes into rails ... The yellow car topples over the bridge and goes into freefall ... Headlamps glare into the abyss and I scream out ... Hands slip over the steering wheel and rotate it wildly ... The car jerks once and my head crashes against the wheel ... My vision turns blurry ...
The last thing I remember is the headlight. So bright I thought it would blind me. For a moment it did.
When I wake up, I'm lying in a hospital bed devoid of life and personality. There are little cuts and scars all over my face that I don't remember getting. A dark red clot rings my wrist as if my hands were tied with a rope for days; I don't remember getting this, either. If I look out the window, a wall will greet me. The opposite building has a brick exterior with paint chipping off of it. I've already memorised every crack, each variation in its pattern. Sixteen and a half bricks in the top row; fourteen in the next; then fifteen and eight. Around my bed is an assortment of beeping devices that are keeping me alive. At least that's their point, I think. I don't know for sure what's keeping me alive.
I should be dead. I don't say that due to a sudden bout of self-loathing. I should technically be dead. It was a 'miracle' I managed to swim ashore.
That's what they tell me, anyway. I don't remember any of it myself. At first, when they kept prodding me about the accident on Christmas night and I stared back at them blankly, they thought I was in shock. They injected me with more tubes and upped the dosage of medication. When that didn't work, they concluded that I, Miya Atsumu, was suffering from a case of mild Dissociative Amnesia. Big words for the simple fact that I have forgotten certain things I'll remember over the next few months.
No big deal. We forget things all the time.
Samu is there by my side throughout. As soon as he hears I may have lost part of my memories, he barges into my hospital room and drills me with questions.
"What's your name?"
"Who am I?"
"From where did you graduate and when?"
"What's your profession?"
"Name everyone in your team and friend circle."
That one takes me a while to answer. Not because I can't remember, but because I happen to know so many people.
After I answer the last question, Samu gives me a strange look, nods, and disappears out the door. He returns in the evening with a doctor who prescribes me more medicines and-against my great reluctance-a therapist.
