Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ringing.

All he could hear was ringing.

He tried to turn, tried to move around and break free, yet it seemed like he was frozen in this void. He didn’t know how long he had been in this state of paralysis, but it felt like it had been for an infinitely long and infinitely short time. The void was neither cold nor hot; it seemed he had fallen into a vacuum, vacant of air, pain, and existence itself.

Was it the portal? Did I get in too late?

And as if the void could hear his thoughts, he started to spiral, free from the constraints of un.

He started to fall.

The creature seemed to catch glimpses of light breaking through his vision, devoid of color to the point that not even the darkest of ink could truly capture it. The light was blinding, especially after staring into nothingness for so long (or was it so little? He couldn’t tell.)

The ringing seems to pierce his skull, sending shooting pain throughout the upper half of his body. It gets louder, screaming into his mind and scrambling for any sense of stability as the lights get brighter.

The lights seem to flicker more, vanishing much slower than before. It got harder and harder to think, feeling as if someone had thrown cloth over his mind. Did that fit the description? Doesn’t it feel more like cotton in his skull?

He can’t tell what’s happening.

Thoughts seem to end before they begin.

There's a buzzing sound.

It grows louder and louder, reaching through the depths of the boy’s mind. The noise scrambles his mind.

Ringing.

Light.

God, there was so much light.

It rips through the void, tearing it apart with light brighter than he had ever seen before.

And then, the boy, the creature, or whatever word fits more, wakes up.

Chapter Text

Laying on his back, the cryptid boy stared up at the blue void, his mind stunned yet open to all the new sensations he was being blasted with. A loud yet comforting static noise followed as air swept through the leaves. Grass dances with the wind, a color so pretty it might as well have been rare. Trees outstretched and scraped the void, and perhaps they would've met the soft clouds if they were bold enough. There was light filtering through the leaves, and unlike the faint, although rapidly deteriorating memory of painful light, it was comforting and welcoming. Despite its lack of face and sentience, it seemed to smile.

This trance seemed to envelop him, rushing into every part of his mind and filling the gaps, similar to the way the air continued to rush through the trees. It was like a continuous breath that never ran out of energy. It brought the scent of something faintly sickeningly sweet, causing him to cough. Birds, disturbed by the sudden announcement of his presence, flew off and took their whistle-tone song somewhere else.

This bliss seemed to fade away as the boy’s brain gathered together, though. As clear as his vision was, it felt like his mind was clouded, and soon the clear, pure air that filled his mind was filled with hissing static.

Perhaps it was to break the dam of wonder and aloofness, coherence flooding his mind.

What?

The sweet sense of wonder of the shining light dissipated, as anxiety so sickening wrapped itself around the boy that it caused him to jolt upright. The forest's comfort was nothing compared to the fear that lurched in his chest.

Where am I?

Who am I?

The cryptid lifts his head and looks at his hands, which are splotched with black and white, and tremble as his senses return. He couldn’t remember. However, words started to trickle out from the recesses of his mind, fighting through the fog in hopes of reaching the forefront of his mind. Scattered and flickering, it seemed like the words themselves were trembling in fear.

Ranboo.

Ranboo?

I think so.

I hope so.

Ranboo (an oddly fitting name; it seemed to ring a thousand bells, yet he could hardly hear any of them) hoists himself up and finds that, with the rest of his memory, he had forgotten how to stand, much less to walk. His legs shook as he heaved his weight onto them, giving out as soon as he had thought he was stable. He attempted to get up again, this time relying on a nearby tree. He stood nearly as tall as it, and the branches seemed strained in his grip. His clothes, heavily worn and even torn in some places (although seemingly unnatural, as there were perfectly square tears on them), caught on some branches and sticks, his back moist with dirt and water. Strangely, it stung a little, but the desire to know where he was drove him on. The cesspit of fear had dissolved into the urge to explore.

Leaning on various trees as he trudged through tall, overgrown grass, the boy had managed to start walking out of the clearing. With each step, he became more confident in himself, even if he tripped over broken vines or poorly placed logs. Once he got out, covered in dust and dirt with some stray leaves and twigs stuck in his dark hair, he was met with tall walls of cobbled stone. They faintly reminded him of something, yet it was too unclear to make out exactly what it was. In front of him stood a gaping hole in the wall, and what he thought to be a flower turned out to be... a human? No memory tried to break through the wall blocking off the rest of his brain. He assumed it looked like him, but it wasn’t as tall as him, had no tail (wait, he had a tail? Oh, he did), and seemed to have a beige skin tone, much more fitting for the scenery. I must stand out a lot then.

The figure turns their head to him, pink eyes meeting his for a sliver of a second. Even still, the mutual contact sent a shiver through his body, reigniting the bottomless pit of anxiety he had felt moments before. He stares at the ground, a collage of green and brown scattered underneath him. Yellow flowers sway in the wind as the cryptid tried his best to calm the unease that had unraveled any sense of comfort left. He could hear the crunch of the undergrowth as the figure got close to him, and he shut his eyes as much as he could, unsure of what to expect.

Eventually, the pit closed once again, giving the boy confidence to lift his head. Opening his eyes and making sure to avoid any contact with the other’s, a kind-faced but evidently strong woman stood only a few arm-lengths away from him. She had pink hair that was blond at both the ends and the roots, wearing a comfortable dark cardigan and white blouse. Her pants were jet black, save for a few flowers etched into them with such craft that they could’ve been real. Unlike Ranboo, she wore leather boots. Ranboo noticed his black hooves for the first time as his eyes flicked back and forth between the ground and the woman. With a surprisingly strong accent unheard of to the boy and a light, sweet voice, she was the one who broke the not-so-silent silence.

"Hello? Sorry if I scared you. "

Ranboo meant to reply, but all that came out was an impulsive warble that bubbled up without warning. Whether it was from the built-up anxiety or the shock of meeting someone new here, he was awkwardly left without explanation. Clearing his throat, embarrassed for a reason he couldn’t pin down, he stammered, "N-no, it’s really okay, I just-I just don’t know where I, uh, am..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say to continue the conversation. It wasn’t every day that you woke up in a forest with no memory, y’know? The two exchange looks, careful to avoid eye contact with one another. The shorter being looked confused as she scanned him. She seemed to connect and break apart pieces in her head that were supposed to fit together, yet they were all ever so slightly off.

She extended her hand towards him, expecting the taller to do the same. He was slightly stunned, though, and he was unsure of what to do in return. When the woman took note of his probably very visible confusion, she relaxed her arm and spoke once again instead.

"My name is Niki Nihachu. You can just call me Niki. I come round here to forage. " Her eyes squinted, and the corners of her mouth stretched into a warm smile. When she realized the cryptid boy seemed lost, she continued, "Foraging is like looking for plants and stuff. Do you need help to get anywhere? "

"I’d love to have help getting around, but I don’t know where I am in the first place." He paused for a moment. "Oh! My name is, uh, Ranboo! I don’t know how I got that name, and I don’t remember if it’s even mine, but I think it works! " He mimicked the smile that Niki had given him, although he must’ve looked like he was in pain, as she shot him a worried glance.

The two stood awkwardly, a "silence" filled once again with wind and birds and leaves and yelling and-

Wait. Yelling?

Niki noticed it too, turning to face the overgrown cobble wall. She visibly expected someone to jump through the worn opening, subtly tensing and bracing herself.

A short-haired man wearing some kind of ribbon on his head was running through the forest, clearly away from someone. His blue jeans were bleached in some areas, ripped in others. The white shirt he wore was slightly frayed at the ends, and an orange symbol stood out in the middle. The rest was a blur; he was running so fast that he couldn’t make out any exact details.

That symbol was fire, right? Although his memory was scattered, some of it stayed intact. It seemed the basic knowledge of colors and sounds and shapes still stood, perhaps from being solidified into his mind. He could only wish that every other memory was as stable as those, though.

However, following the fire shirt guy was a blonde wearing a mask that obstructed his entire face. He wore a... hooded shirt? It was a vibrant green, blending in with the surrounding foliage. the bag on his back swayed heavily as he chased his- well, friend didn’t seem appropriate. They didn’t look hateful towards each other, though. If anything, they were happily bantering.

“SAPNAP, I KNOW YOU STOLE IT, HAND IT OVER,” the boy in green yelled, although his voice was not filled with venom and was instead lighthearted, seeming to be full of the smile he hid behind his mask. The other, presumably Sapnap, let out a hearty laugh as he continued to run away. They jumped over the rocks that determined the opening of the mossy wall.

As they approached Ranboo and Niki, though, they slowed down, their restless banter being replaced with a quiet confusion as they became aware of the two. Ranboo shifts his eyes to the ground, but he could still feel the pinpricks of multiple sets of eyes piercing through him. This pain let through an unexpected warble, laced with discomfort.

They must’ve taken the cue to look away, though, as the pinpricks lessened in intensity. Still, they were there. He lifted his head, seeing that all but the masked man had looked away from him. He seemed to be studying him, piercing him with a stare through the small cracked holes of his mask. Ranboo now saw that the mask was of a smile.

Niki stood up straight, speaking with a friendly yet stern tone. “This is Ranboo. He doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t remember anything.” catching the uncomfortable tension between the masked one and Ranboo, she snapped, “Stop staring at him, Dream. I don’t think he’s okay with that.” the blonde, or now Dream, cut off his gaze and instead turned to Niki. “How’d you find him? An...” Dream’s eyes flicked back and forth between Niki and Ranboo, and even if it were hard to work out his expression, the way his voice trailed off made the cryptid think he was confused. “Well,” Dream continued, “An enderman isn’t usually out at this time of day.”

Niki shrugged. There was no explanation.

As the silence resumed, Ranboo began to wonder how the word “enderman” was so familiar.

He was interrupted, though, by Sapnap.

Smiling, he introduced himself. “I’m Sapnap! We don’t get new people very often!” Ranboo just stood awkwardly, unsure of how to introduce himself when Niki had done it for him. Sapnap, whose energy carried in his voice and smile, continued, “Do you speak? If not, it’s alright-”

“Didn’t you literally just hear Niki saying his name? If he couldn’t speak, how would she have known his name?” Dream snapped back, although it was less in a vile way and more in a jokingly mocking way. He ended with a chuckle and a light punch in his friend’s shoulder. “Anyways,” Dream spoke once again, “Sorry if I came off the wrong way. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” The smile beamed through his voice, easing Ranboo. He’d initially thought to have done something wrong.

“It’s okay!” Ranboo chirped. “I didn’t know it made me uncomfortable until a few minutes ago, so, uh, yeah!”

It seemed that the silence of rustling leaves and whistling birds would, again, fill the gaps between the four, but Niki nudged Ranboo’s side. “You need anywhere to sleep for a few days? Considering you don’t have anything to do or go, I’ll give you a tour tomorrow. I have work in L’manburg.”

Dream hung back his head, probably in an attempt to exaggerate discontent. He can’t really rely on facial expressions, Ranboo concluded. But why does he wear a mask?

Dream must’ve caught Ranboo gazing in his direction, as the pinpricks once again stabbed his eyes and caused his heart to drop into an unending pit.

looking away, the forgetful boy made note to practice not looking at people, which is a surprise. If he could remember to walk, why not remember to look away from eyes?

“L’manburg is a country. You’ll see it soon enough,” Dream sighed, gazing off into the blue void painted with clouds above, however becoming pink in the sunlight. It didn’t seem like he was fond at all with L’manburg.

It was clear that Niki didn’t care for this, though, and she motioned Ranboo to the cobble opening. The world above them was darkening, slipping into colors so vibrant it might as well have been on fire. It bloomed like the colorful array of flowers dancing on the ground. He didn’t realize that he was affixed at this fire, motionless, until Niki cleared her throat.

“Ah, didn’t mean to get distracted,” Ranboo apologized.

“It’s alright...” Niki responded, trailing off, leaving unspoken questions unasked. As they move, Ranboo looks back to see Sapnap and Dream seat themselves on a fallen log and start to laugh, although the two were too far to hear what they laughed about.

They step over the rounded stones lining the ground of the entrance, Ranboo stumbling over hidden undergrowth. The two chuckle as he balanced himself and sped up towards Niki.

This place seemed new, but at the same time it... wasn’t. He knew what every small feeling was, yet any memory of being here in the first place was scarce. Even still, he moved naturally. He laughed. Hell, he could walk, at least! He could look at the ground and identify grass and flowers, he knew what the sun was, and he wasn’t all too unfamiliar with the way it dyed the ground red as it slipped. The blue void wasn’t that... isn’t it called a sky?

He tried to hold onto the thread of memory, although it was worthless and was like trying to hold onto a single grain of sand in a windstorm. It eventually slipped away.

He couldn’t remember.