Chapter Text
When he opens his eyes, he only sees white.
That alone warns him something is wrong.
Their ceiling is light blue, not this aggressive color that pains him.
Then the sounds come. Little machine sounds, ruffle of clothes, and voices far away.
Then the smell. Disinfectant.
He lays on a bed, a soft one at that. He tries to sit, but his head spins immediatly. Someone took his glasses. He pats beside him, and by some miracle he finds them near his pillow. It’s his old pair, the squared ones. He didn’t remember they were so dirty. He tries cleaning them with the sheets, to no avail.
He puts his glasses, stares at his hands. They are damaged, more than usual. He almost can’t recognize them.
There’s no one around him, but with his sight mostly back, he sees what he already understood. He’s in a hospital. And he can’t remember why.
What does he remember? His routine, being a butcher at his uncle’s stall. All is muddled. His brother going on a date. That’s recent - and new! He clings to this memory. They went drinking afterwards, and their manager was pissed the next few days. What after that? He was supposed to go to a family dinner. Did that happen?
He’s thirsty, and it’s like the thought was enough to make a nurse appear. They give him water and go fetch a doctor.
“So… how do you feel?”
“I-uh- what am I doing here?”
“You almost froze to death. Luckily a neighbor called an ambulance.”
“Frost.”
He was not expecting that.
“So, I’ll need a few informations, if you’re okay with that.”
“Err, right. I don’t remember much of the past few days but…”
“That’s totally normal. You were severely dehydrated, hungry, and had a slight cold before coming here. That was 2 days ago.”
He stays silent. Hungry? A cold? How did he end up here?
“So, first question : what’s your name?”
“Taro Sakana.”
“Do you have any relatives we could call?”
“Yeah… but… do you mean nobody knows I’m here? Why didn’t you call them sooner?”
The doctor stares at him.
“Well, that’s the problem isn’t it? How do we know who to call if we don’t even know who you are? So… Any relatives?”
“Yes. Ren Sakana. He’s my uncle. He must be worried sick I didn’t show up at work…”
The doctor’s head shots up, and he’s staring again, before writing something on his damn little notebook.
“Other question. What do you remember last?”
So Taro explains, he tries, but he knows he’s confused, so he’s not very clear. It’s frustrating. The doctor goes away. Taro, too tired to stay up, just closes his eyes. Jiro too, must be worried sick. He should have asked the doctor his cellphone, but he was to busy shooting questions at him.
Some times later, another one of these white coats comes, and sits beside him. His smile is too kind to be true.
“Hello Taro. I’m Dr Sasaki. So, you’re working at the Tsukiji fish market, right? And that’s your last memory?”
“Yeah. Why are you asking?”
Dr Sasaki waits a bit before answering.
“Because it is difficult to believe. I mean, from a homeless person of the neighborhood, and because Tsukiji is 50 miles away.”
“What. I’m not-”
“And you are pretty well known by the people around here. You don’t disappear each day to work.”
Taro does not compute what he said.
“I-I lived on the streets, alright, but that was 4 years ago!”
“Do you really think you have the face of someone who works everyday, who has a home?”
He gestures towards a mirror on the wall - he hadn’t seen it - and Taro is welcomed by the face of a stranger. Long damaged hair - longer than he ever let them grow, big circles under his eyes, scratchy beard. And thin. Thinner than he ever was.
This sight frightens Taro. How could he finish like that? He wasn’t on the streets these last years, he’s positive of it, but his-his body betrays this very thought.
“Wh-… C-can you tell me what day is it?”
Dr Sasaki answers, but that doesn’t resolve shit.
“I-is this a prank?”
“No, it is not.”
He’s dead serious, and Taro feels an anxiety attack coming. He didn’t have one of those for years, but right now, maybe that’s justified.
That’s the moment Ren chooses to show up.
“T-Taro?”
Taro watches him, unable to talk. He’s exactly like he remembers, white-grey hair and all, but the emotion in his voice - it shouldn’t exist. They saw each other for the past four years at the market, almost everyday. He shouldn’t look at him like that. Like he’s a ghost. Taro’s throat tightens. Last time he heard Ren use this voice, it was when he came back. No, he corrects mentally, it’s worse than last time.
Ren stays by the door, but Taro can’t think of anything to say. His uncle continues, almost in a whisper.
“We-we thought you were dead, after all this time…”
Is it guilt he hears? Taro can’t take it. He tries to get up.
“R-Ren, I…”
Dr Sasaki pushes him gently on the bed - he does not yet have the force to stay on his feet - and goes to his uncle.
“May I talk to you, sir?”
They go out in the hallway. Taro can only watches his uncle, catching the last of his stares, and the door closes. Anxiety rushes forth, and Taro whimpers weakly in his hands.
It’s a nightmare.