The Morose Mononokean Oneshots (Mainly Abeshiya)-Warning

Abeshiya Week: Day 2

Prompt: First...

Yes I made it sappy because why not? Second, I hate this story because I had such a good storyline but ran out of energy to actually write it. (Yeah the quality fell flat after the first few paragraphs). Third, this isn't exactly the prompt, but meh, it's close.

Yes I know this is short.

Summary: He's had to cope with a "new" employee.

How many weeks had it been? Two, three? However long, it felt like a century.

For hours and hours he'd stare blankly at a screen, a wall, the floor, the sky, anything. Why? It's because there was always something at the back of his mind. Something that lingered that would forever be burned in his mind.

"What happened?!"

"Get him to the ICU now, he needs to be treated."

"On it."

What could he have done to protect him? What could he have done to save him? What could he have done to keep his precious little Ashiya safe?

Anything. Anything would've been better than this outcome. Anything would be better than losing every memory he had with him. Anything.

He remembered sitting in the waiting room, hoping for the news that he was alive and would awaken to a world with people holding out their loving arms for him. He remembered that "small" yokai knocking him unconscious. He remembered how fearful he was. He remembered seeing him convulse uncontrollably as his eyes dilated forcing him to fall unconscious. But he also remembered that inside the ICU, his beloved employee lay silently on a bed, with a doctors swarming to save him.

When the news arrived that he was stable, he swore he thanked the gods for sparing his employee's life. Never in his life had he felt so scared or frightened; not even when he knew Aoi would die.

However, what played out in the ward was so different than how he imagined it in his mind that he nearly collapsed at just the sight of it. There his employee lay unconscious, with a respirator mask placed on him. IV lines were all stuck in his arms, and bandages covered his forehead, with little strands of navy blue locks sticking out.

"He's stable, isn't he?"

Ashiya's mother.

"He's fine, but I'm concerned for what happens when he wakes up."

"What do you mean?"

I'm sorry, Ashiya san.

"His concussion had triggered a seizure, and an abnormal one at that."

Forgive me.

"What's wrong with my son?"

"We don't know for certain, but we can verify that his temporal lobe was badly damaged, and that some of his memories may be forgotten."

What?

Nara paled at those words. Her eyes widened in horror and her jaw dropped to the floor. He even noticed how she squeezed his son's hand tighter as a sentence fell out of her mouth.

"Will he get them back? Is it possible to trigger those memories?"

"You can try, but I doubt that that'll do any good."

His eyes burned as he did his best to hold back tears.

I'm sorry.

For weeks he tried to trigger some sort of way to regain all of the lost time. For weeks he went to the hospital and tried to make him remember. For weeks he confused the poor boy. And for weeks he was left in the dark.

Ashiya was "gone". He would never get to see that loving smile, but he also would never let Ashiya experience the same feeling. Was this how he felt when Aoi died?

He wouldn't hurt him again. He would never hurt him again. He would never put Ashiya in that situation again. So in his mind, that was the equivalent of walking away.

He would never forget those moments they had shared, and he would never forget those moments where he could make him laugh. It's such a shame that he was the only one with them.

He had shut the door and told himself he would never open it unless he remembered. He wouldn't be able to hurt as much as he did. And he would never be able to hurt someone so precious to him again.

Years had passed and he still would never forget. Although that dull ache that scratched at his heart lingered, he wouldn't just leave behind those memories. Instead, he'd play as that anonymous person in his life that he would never see. He'd play as that person who would gift those he loved dearly. During Christmas and the one birthday he'd remember, he'd send over a small gift filled with treats of delight and wonder.

Even though he may not gain that same feeling he'd experience when he was truly with him, knowing that he was safe and happy was all that mattered.

I'll keep on waiting for your memories to return. Until then, I will always hope that someday is tomorrow.