Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's: Rainbow Stardust (OLD)

Chapter 1: Remember My Name

(TW!!!!: Character self-hate, flashbacks, implied very not bueno things (not self-harm but other things) and also sucky writing. I fell asleep halfway through this chapter.)

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At the time, I didn't know why my arm was hurting so bad. I thought I must've seriously injured it somehow, and to be honest, I probably did. It felt like it was bleeding out, but I couldn't feel any liquid escaping my body. Thankfully.

That pain in my arm was one of the first things I'd woken up to. I immediately noticed the darkness I was surrounded by, which made it easier on my eyes, but the smell of trash mixed with motor oil overwhelmed my nose. I was laying down, sprawled across the ground in one of the most awkward ways imaginable. My head hurt like all heck. Everything hurt, actually.

I was half-awake, but I remember hearing someone calling to me. Not by name, but still to me, trying to wake me up. It was... a young voice, I think? He sounded quite worried. But I didn't feel strong enough to stand or even move on my own yet. So I laid there, half-listening as I drifted off too quickly.

The next thing I remember, after that, when I truly woke up for the first time, was the stinging feeling of gauze all over my arms and face. Not my legs, interestingly, although I know the reason to that now. The light I was greeted with when I forced my eyes to open was a bit dim and old, but it worked well enough. Not so bright that it hurt my eyes, but definitely bright enough to see.

I didn't move just yet. I was focused on the feeling of someone wrapping my hurting arm in bandages. There were more voices outside, talking quietly in hushed tones. Outside? Oh, right. I was in a tent-like structure. I could see the ceiling from the couch I was laying on. The couch itself was bumpy and old, probably dug out of some garbage, but the cushions were soft enough.

After a few minutes, the small hands tending to my wounds backed away, but the owner of said hands stayed by my side. I didn't know why. The very thought of someone wanting to help me felt so foreign to me, but I couldn't remember the reason for that. I couldn't remember anything.

He noticed my eyes were open and looking around and gasped. "Y-you're awake! Oh, thank goodness! I was worried some thugs on the street had gotten to you! Actually, from the looks of these injuries, maybe they have..."

Thugs? I turned my head to face the boy. He really was quite young. He had a criminal mark on the side of his eye in the shape of a triangle, and bright red, puffy hair partly hidden by a yellow beanie. He looked so happy to see me awake.

"Are you feeling okay? How'd you end up hurt that bad?" the boy asked.

I couldn't answer. I opened my mouth, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The boy jumped to action.

"I know just what'll help you clear that throat of yours! W-wait right here, please! Don't move!"

And without giving me a chance to answer, the boy ran out of the tent in the direction of where the other voices were coming from. I tried to sit up, at least, so that I could get a better bearing of my surroundings, but leaning on my bandaged arm only hurt even more. In the end, I only managed to lift my head onto the armrest of the couch. After a couple of minutes spaced out in the direction of the table in front of me, the boy came back with a steaming mug of something.

"Here!" he exclaimed. "We don't exactly have any tea or anything, but some hot water should help soothe your throat. At least, that's what I heard."

He tried to give it to me, but any attempts I had at moving were very difficult. So instead, he had to try and feed me. After I burned my mouth and tongue several times, I finally got through at least half of the water, and the boy let it rest on the table to help me sit up and talk again.