Chapter Text
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish?
-- T.S. Elliot, "The Waste Land"
Sunny awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling.
Or... wait. Was it really unfamiliar? The bed he was in, the lamp beside him, the furniture within the bedroom-- he recognized them, almost. There was something about them, a recollection just within reach...
He took a second to think back.
Ah, this was his bedroom. Right.
He stared at the empty bed opposite his, next to the computer table.
He had a sinking feeling that something was missing, there.
Something... he knew that some one should occupy that space.
His sister. Mari.
Where was she?
Maybe she'd woken up before him?
That happened pretty often; he liked sleeping in, after all.
And... well, he couldn't hear the piano downstairs, so she couldn't be there.
That seemed a bit odd, though. She loved playing piano; she spent all day there, sometimes. And she'd only gotten even more obsessed with it over the past few months, because of...
Because of... what? Something had happened, he knew, but...
(Something was wrong. Anxiety began to squeeze his heart, and filled his lungs with dread.)
(This line of thought seemed dangerous.)
(He should just stop thinking about it. That seemed safe.)
He shook his head, clearing out the stray thoughts.
Anyways, if she wasn't at the piano, then what?
Maybe she was getting breakfast? It was pretty early, after all.
Or maybe she was spending time with someone? Maybe she was with... with...
He frowned, slightly. Faint memories of an unknown figure came to mind.
There was definitely someone Mari liked being with.
Actually, they both had a few close friends, but Sunny remembered that there was one person in particular she liked being with.
Someone tall, with a brilliant smile.
He kept that figure in his mind. Why-- why couldn't he remember who it was?
Sunny was close to that person, too.
They-- he, Sunny suddenly recalled, he-- had practically been Sunny's older brother!
(Why was remembering everything so difficult?)
Those memories remained frustratingly just out of reach, as did that person's name.
His name...
His name was...
< ... hero ... >
No, it was no good, he couldn't recall; the name was just on the tip of his tongue, but... it stayed there, lost within the fog.
His stomach rumbled.
He should get breakfast. Memories could wait.
He tried to pull himself out of bed; his muscles resisted every motion.
A sudden sharp pain coursed up his leg as he shifted it, however. Looking down, he could see that it was bandaged.
He thought back. Right, he had been-- been making breakfast. The day before yesterday.
He... had an accident, in the kitchen.
A bit of frustration welled within him, as he stared at the wound.
(Why was this happening to him?)
Nonetheless, he held onto the recollection, as if it would disappear forever if he let it out of his mind.
He turned it over and over again, rewinding and replaying it in his mind.
It took him a while to realize why: It was a new memory.
Hero trudged through the door of his house, returning from the graveyard.
Kel was already up, putting on his shoes downstairs.
Halfway to the stairs, Hero stopped, and glanced at Kel.
"Uh... hey, Kel?"
"Hm?"
"Are you, uh... headed to Sunny's, this morning?"
"Yeah. Why, you wanna come with?"
Hero looked around, nervously.
"...Yeah," he said, simply.
Kel sprung up like a jack, and beamed at him.
"Sure thing! I'm sure he'd appreciate it more if you helped him with breakfast, anyways," he laughed.
Hero tried not to wince, at the mention of breakfast.
"Ah, y-yeah. Er, how is Sunny doing? He... uh, got hurt yesterday, right?" he asked, as they left the house.
"The doctor said he would be fine. It's just going to leave a wicked scar on his leg," Kel replied.
As they reached the front door of Sunny's house, Kel fished a key out of his pockets.
"So, uh, this is really your first time seeing Sunny since... everything happened, right?" he asked, to which Hero nodded.
"Right. So, just follow my lead, okay?" Kel continued, turning his head away from Hero.
Sunny sat on the edge of his bed, and continued to stare at the bandage wrapped around his leg.
He etched the memories associated with it into his mind.
He was trying to make breakfast, two days ago. He cooked eggs.
When he tried to get some juice, he dropped a glass onto the floor, breaking it.
Then he fell on the shards. That's how his leg got injured.
Then a girl with pink hair walked in and saw him, and she'd said:
"You know you should've asked for help, right?"
The memory hurt to remember. And not just physically.
He remembered feeling irritated.
Was he really that incapable of fending for himself?
The frustration lodged in his gut, pooling into a burning, aching puddle at the bottom of his stomach.
(But maybe he really couldn't look out for himself. In the end, he had gotten hurt, hadn't he?)
(Maybe he really did need help for everything.)
Nonetheless, he clung to the memory in spite of the pain. It was concrete, almost tangible in its clarity and certainty.
As painful as it was to remember, it still pierced through the fog that seemed to enshroud the recent past.
It was as wonderous as it was sickening.
A knock at the door roused him from his thoughts.
It opened, and two people walked in-- brothers, from what Sunny guessed.
One seemed to be about Sunny's age, though he seemed to be somewhat taller than Sunny.
The other...
Sunny frowned, staring at the other person who'd walked in.
He was definitely the older sibling, judging by how he was slightly taller, slightly more... mature-looking?
A familiar feeling settled within him, again: the feeling of missing something vitally important, something just on the tip of his tongue...
Something about this... stranger-- No, not a stranger. But how? --felt familiar.
A voice called out to him.
"Uh... Sunny? Hello? Earth to Sunny? Are you okay?" the younger brother had asked.
Sunny suddenly became acutely aware that he was staring. He shifted his gaze, nervously.
"S-Sorry," he stammered. "I'm, uhm. Okay."
"Uh. Who-- who are you...?" he asked.
"Oh! I'm ###," the younger boy said first, introducing himself.
Then, pointing to his taller brother at his side, he said, "And this is my older brother, Hero!"
"You might not recognize us, but... we're your friends. We're here to look after you."
That... felt right, to Sunny, though he couldn't explain why.
Before he could ask anything more, his stomach rumbled.
"You haven't had breakfast yet, Sunny?" ### asked. "Well, c'mon then! Let's get you something to eat!"
Pretty soon, Sunny found himself downstairs, in the dining room, with a hearty breakfast: eggs and bacon and some toast.
It was, frankly, delicious. He'd taken his time in eating it, savoring the exquisite flavors.
On the other hand, ### wolfed down his portion in no time flat;
how someone could eat that quickly without choking, Sunny had no idea.
Sunny carefully sipped from a glass of orange juice, his hands fortunately steady for the time being.
(They'd noticed him staring at the cabinet with the glasses in it.)
("Oh, did you want some juice?" the older brother had asked. "Don't worry. Just sit down and I'll get some for you.")
He kept staring at the tall figure at the stove.
Sunny still couldn't shake that feeling; he was determined to find out just where this person fit into his memories.
"My brother's cooking is the best, isn't it?" asked ### cheerily, as the cook in question brought his own plate over to the table.
"I saw the look on your face, Sunny. You agree with me, don't you?"
Suddenly put on the spot, Sunny simply nodded in agreement.
"Aw, thanks, you guys," the older brother said, grinning, before sitting down to eat.
"Man, ever since you went off to college, Hero, I've been missing this more and more! How do you even make something this good?" ### asked.
"Well, you know, ###, if you ever need help practicing, I'm always happy to lend a hand."
Sunny noticed a fork-- ###'s, to be exact-- slowly creeping towards his brother's plate, using the conversation as a distraction.
He'd almost made it to the bacon, when--
Clink!
<hero?> stared at his brother through closed eyes, a friendly and fake smile plastered on his face.
He'd suddenly blocked ###'s enroaching fork on its approach with his own.
"I'm sorry, ###, could you say that again?" he asked, voice laced with the undertone of a challenge.
"Oho," the younger sibling chuckled. "You may have seen me... but can you stop me? Hah!" he shouted, quickly shifting to the side with his fork.
His brother deftly responded, intercepting ###'s fork again;
from there, it devolved into a flurry of flicks, jabs, and ripostes as the two brothers duelled.
Sunny just watched their antics with amusement, sipping his orange juice.
This felt... comfortable. Familiar, even.
Had this happened, before? It was-- it was almost as if he could recall something.
(No, not this, exactly, but... something like it, almost.)
(There were more people, though. Including--)
He frowned, and closed his eyes. This-- the memory, it had something to do with... with his sister.
He tried to reach out, towards the faint wisps of his sister within the memory.
(Breakfasts, with five-- no, six, including him-- people, but... who were they?)
(There was himself. His sister. And-- and the unknown figure from before. The one he was so close to recalling in full.)
"Aha! I got it! Did you see that, Sunny? ...Hey, Sunny?"
Sunny opened his eyes, train of thought derailed. ### looked at him with worry in his face.
"You okay there, Sunny?" <hero?> asked.
Sunny nodded quickly.
"Have... have I done this, before?"
"Eh? What do you mean?" ### asked.
Sunny turned to the taller sibling. Did he have a connection to that memory...?
"Um... sorry... t-this might be an odd question to ask, but-- uhm."
Sunny took a breath to steady himself, before continuing.
"Do you know where my sister is?" he asked. "Her name is Mari."
The older boy froze instantly, the look on his face giving way to shock and... was that fear?
"I-- I, uhm... uh... I don't..." he stammered.
"Sorry, Sunny," his younger brother smoothly cut in. "Mari's... out, right now," he said.
"She probably won't be back until really late."
The two siblings seemed to exchange a strange look with each other.
(What was that about...?)
"Oh," said Sunny, disappointed.
Had she left before he had woken up? That didn't seem like her, but... well, it was the only option that made sense.
"College prep must be really tough," he supposed.
He looked up, towards the two siblings. They didn't meet his eyes as they went back to eating.
The three of them spent the rest of breakfast in an uncomfortable silence.
Sunny spent the next few hours doing some exercises, helped along by ###.
His older brother had simply watched the two of them for the time being, apparently unaware of Sunny's regimen.
"So, just bring your arm up-- yeah, like that! You've got this, don't worry..." ### said, guiding Sunny through the exercises.
As wild and undirected as the tanned boy could be at times, when it came to physical activities like this, Sunny couldn't help but notice how focused he became.
He was definitely a born athlete, Sunny decided. But what sport, he wondered--
As Sunny's thoughts drifted off, his balance suddenly wavered.
His legs wobbled, and he suddenly found himself falling backwards--
"Whoa!"
Sunny didn't hit the ground.
Instead, something had caught him a few inches above the ground, and he found himself looking up into a pair of brown eyes-- ###'s, he realized.
(Being held like this was... actually really comfortable, he noted. Surprisingly so. But also a bit embarrassing.)
(He tried not to blush.)
The boy holding him grinned, apparently not noticing any emotions that Sunny might've betrayed on his face.
"I've gotcha! Did'ja think I'd let you fall like that?" he asked, pulling Sunny back up. "Careful, careful..."
"Hmm. Maybe we should take a break for now?" he continued. "It feels like we've been doing this for a while... hey, Hero? How long has it been?"
"It's, erm..." <hero?> said, pausing to read a clock on the wall. "Around lunchtime," he finished.
"I made sandwiches, if you want to stop for now."
"Perfect!" ### cheered. "C'mon, let's take a break. We don't want you to hurt yourself, after all."
Pretty soon, the afternoon turned into evening, then into dusk.
After Sunny had finished exercising for the day, they'd mostly just talked for the rest of the day.
Or, rather, ### had talked; Sunny had mostly just listened, and <hero?> had just watched the two of them again.
The feeling from before, of missing something, had never quite left Sunny. The mystery remained unsolved.
Sunny hoped that the taller brother would come back tomorrow. Maybe he'd remember, then.
(Assuming, of course, he remembered any of this tomorrow.)
"Well," ### said. "Hero and I should probably be heading back home now, for dinner."
"Take care, Sunny. It was good to finally see you again," his brother continued, giving Sunny a wave. "See you tomorrow."
Sunny waved back as they headed for the door, before himself heading upstairs, towards his room.
Their words and faces continued to chip away at his mind as he stepped into his bedroom.
(A goodbye, just like that one. But again, with more people-- his sister among them.)
(She was clinging to someone's arm-- that tall, unknown figure again-- and she leaned in to kiss his cheek.)
(The figure blushed, and reached a hand to his messy brown hair in embarrassment.)
Sunny was on the verge of a breakthrough-- he could feel it.
That figure-- that person.
His name was...
...
hero
...
...
hero?
...
... Hero!
That person's name-- it was Hero!
Sunny whirled around in-place.
Where was Hero? Sunny needed to get to him! He-- he needed to confirm the memories he'd just connected to, and--
Sunny stumbled, and fell to the floor as he stepped outside.
He cursed under his breath, agonizing seconds passing as he slowly pulled himself back to standing--
(Keep the name in your thoughts. Don't forget it. Don't let it slip.)
He heard the front door close as he reached the staircase.
No, NO!
They couldn't leave yet-- not when he'd finally figured it out, not when he'd finally remembered Hero!
He could already feel the name starting to slip from his grasp again.
He needed to do something, quickly. But what?
(Don't forget. Keep it in mind.)
A pen, he realized.
He needed a pen-- he needed to write it down, write everything down.
He might forget, but paper wouldn't.
He scrambled back into his room. His eyes flashed to the computer desk.
A lonely black ink pen lay there; he quickly grabbed it.
(hero hero hero hero hero that person was hero don't forget keep it in mind)
He frantically scanned the room.
Paper, paper, he needed paper! Where was it?
He yanked open a drawer.
There-- lined paper! It was a loose sheet, but it would do.
Taking the paper, he sat down at the desk, and began to write what had bubbled up from his memories.
(His handwriting was a bit worse than he remembered, but-- no, no time to think about that, he had to keep the name in mind before he forgot...)
Carefully, he wrote:
I We You have a friend named Hero. He is tall, with brown eyes and messy brown hair.
He is Mari's-- boyfriend? That was what Hero and Mari were, right? A couple?-- boyfriend, and is also more or less our older brother.
Hero also has a brother of his own, who we are friends with. I can't remember his name right now.
He is slightly shorter and tanner, with the same brown eyes and hair, though his hair is straighter.
Hero and his brother come over to help us with day-to-day things.
You can trust them.
We used to (?) hang out together, a lot, together with Mari, Hero's brother, and two other people I can't remember right now.
Sunny looked down. What else could he write?
Oh, right. The breakfast incident, maybe?
The day before yesterday, we tried making breakfast for ourselves.
We cooked eggs, then tried getting orange juice. We dropped a glass onto the floor, breaking it.
Then we accidentally fell, and a shard of glass cut us. I'm pretty sure it's going to leave a scar.
Then a girl with pink hair told us that we should've asked for help.
Maybe he could do this more often. It seemed better than trying to remember everything himself.
Sunny paused. He'd have to get a journal, then. And maybe more pens...
Hmm. What else to write? Sunny couldn't think of much else he could add.
Ah, wait. One last thing.
Today, I spent time with Hero and his brother. Everything was okay.