Tokyo Babylon Fan Fiction / X/1999 Fan Fiction ❯ Lost Souls ❯ II ( Chapter 2 )

Before he opened his eyes, Subaru knew he was in a hospital. The air was choked with the scent of cleaners and the too-sweet perfume they used to disguise that smell. The bed was stiff without being too uncomfortable, and the pillow was barely adequate for the job, and everything about it screamed that this just wasn't home. He heard the buzz of conversation outside the door and the squeak of a passing cart. There was the soft beeping tone of a heart monitor, and he idly wondered if it was his. Perhaps the biggest and most immediate clue was the invasive feeling of the IV in his arm and the tape that held it firmly in place.

He opened his eyes slowly, bringing a hand up to rub them. This elicited a soft gasp from someone in the room, and he turned in the direction of the sound.

"Grandmother?"

She sat in a wheelchair, looking so much older than he remembered. She was still an imposing figure with an incredible spiritual presence, but something within her seemed broken. She was weary. She looked more tired than Subaru had ever seen her before.

"Subaru." His name was a wavering sigh on her lips, full of too many emotions for him to try to understand. "Thank goodness. I've been so worried about you."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. It would be inane to say he was okay now when he really didn't feel like he was. Instead he found himself blurting, "What happened?"

"I was hoping you would tell me. Subaru, it's been so long, and I knew you'd been injured, but I had no way of finding you. I was half afraid that that man had gotten to you again--"

"Grandmother, I didn't mean that. What happened to you?" His eyebrows were drawn together in concern and confusion, and he reached out to her.

She was silent for a very long time. She gave him a searching look, pressing her awareness upon him, looking for answers and apparently coming up short. She finally reached into her handbag and pulled out an elegant compact. "What is the last thing you remember, before you got hurt?" she asked slowly, as she handed the object to Subaru.

"I was going to see...a friend. At the hospital." He didn't want to go into details. It was all so fresh and painful, and he was sure she would scold him for falling into Seishirou's trap so easily despite her warnings. "At least, I thought he was my friend," he murmured softly, playing with the gold and mother of pearl compact now sitting his lap. "He hurt me...he broke my arm...."

An arm that was miraculously healed. There was only the shadow and reminder of pain there, but it was clearly not broken. He looked up at his grandmother, startled. Just how much time had passed? Had he been unconscious ever since? No, that didn't make sense...he clearly remembered Seishirou had been the one who brought him here...but that didn't make sense either.

"Open it," she commanded in a soft but steely tone.

He looked at her for another long, reluctant moment. He didn't want to know. "I don't want to," he whispered, even as his fingers pried it open.

She almost had to order him to look into the mirror within, despite it lying open in his hands. Somehow he knew he'd be too shocked by what he found. Part of him knew and whispered that he didn't want to know anything past that day. If there were enough things to make him forget though, why would he remember that trauma as well?

No. He shoved that thought aside. If there was an answer to that, he absolutely didn't want to know.

He looked.

He managed to get a very good look before his fingers began to tremble too much for the mirror to show anything useful. He closed it as silently as he could, and his hands were still shaking when he handed it back.

"How--what year is it?"

"Nineteen ninety-nine."

Another long silence fell between them as she slipped the small mirror back into its place.

She finally unlocked the wheels of her chair and made motions indicative of her intent to leave. Subaru just stared blankly forward, into space.

"Don't worry. It will all come back to you." She leaned forward and touched his shoulder kindly. It was the first time he could remember such a demonstration of affection from her. Oh, he knew she cared. He knew she loved him deeply. But she'd never been one to show it. This shocked him almost more than the passage of time.

"Thank you," he finally found it within himself to murmur--but she was already gone.