The Wave

Memories and Shadow

There is nothing more terrifying than waking up and not knowing who you are or where you are at.  To have a brain that is a blank canvas, devoid of all memories past and present.  That was an experience that would forever haunt Kakashi.  For five years, he didn't know who he was.  Where he had come from.  The ID that they had found on him when he had been rushed to the hospital with a bullet lodged in his skull had said his name was Michael Slade.  Thirty-five years old.  An Austin resident by the address on the Driver's License.  He knew his height, his weight.  Nothing more than that.  His brain was blank and despite their best efforts, that memory did not return in the months of rehabilitation first in the hospital then in a recovery center.

The first time he was taken to what was supposed to be his apartment, nothing there had clicked either.  Not that there was a lot to go off of as he had looked around.  Some books on the almost empty shelf - all erotica.  No family portraits around the apartment or in any other place.  The crisp, smooth lines of modern furniture and appliances gave no clue.  He would never forget the look on the home health aides face as they stood next to him, going from room to room.  Both of them hoping for something that would trigger a memory and getting nothing.

Not even a damn paystub to indicate where he worked or what he did for a living.  No ties to any other living human being.  That was almost as bad as not remembering.  Whoever he was before, that person was completely isolated from the outside world.  He almost wondered if he wasn't some kind of criminal.  The checks they found for a bank had given some hope only to have a staff that didn't remember ever seeing him and an account that had not been open for very long but what a stash of cash.  It was a good thing he had been well-off apparently as it was months before he was able to fully recover physically to do anything.

The Austin Police had awarded him a metal and showed him videos of what he had done in the violence that had erupted at the concert.  Apparently, he had known Martial Arts in his old life and had taken down four men, the fifth inflicting the wound that had stolen his memories from him.  Something about the blonde that had wrestled with the other man triggered something, but it was so vague, he had let it go.  Assuming it was directly related to the incident, not her personally.  It wasn't like the videos even really showed her very clearly.  The filmer had been focused on him not her.  He had inquired about her but was shut down.  She refused to see anyone and apparently had gone into hiding.  If she had known him, she would have wanted to see him, so he forgot about her.

His body was a crisscross of scars, some so nasty that the medics when they didn't think he could hear them had whispered as to what manner of man he was indeed.  These were scars born before the firefight that had almost killed him.  Whoever he had been before he lost his memories, he had been a man that had faced danger time and time again.  Even a wicked looking scar was across his left eye, joining with the ugly scars that adorned his right temple and went into his hairline from the injury he had received.  For months after going home, he expected some criminal element to appear on his door to take him back into the life he had forgotten.  Yet none came creeping in the night or the light of day.  He was a ghost.

During his recovery, he had been visited by a number of the officers that had been on scene.  All of them having been amazed at what he had done.  He had refused to see any reporters.  He didn't want his failed memory broadcast across the country.  He just wanted to remember who he was... The officers had encouraged it, thinking maybe someone would recognize him but something in his spirit told him no one would.  In those months following, he formed a friendship with these men and when he decided he wasn't going to get answers he gave into their insistence that he should join their ranks.

Due to the nature of his failed memory and the actions he had taken when he lost them, they had made special accommodations to induct him into the APD.  His body, thankfully, had been very strong when the incident happened, and he had gained his strength back in record time.  He had passed the physical test without a struggle at all.  The exam itself had been very simple, indicating that he had been educated as well.  Yet in the times when he was alone, he wondered over and over again who he was to the point that he felt almost crazy by it.  He tried initially drowning those thoughts in women, but they always left a bad taste in his mouth.  He felt almost like he was betraying someone when he was with them.