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The girl known as Nanaya looked up from her hospital bed as the door in front of her opened. Another girl entered, perhaps a little younger than her, with stern eyes and long dark hair. Or, wait, perhaps it was red hair.
“Can I help you, miss?” Nanaya asked.
Color drained from the other girl’s face, quickly flashing white, then bubbling up again into red. Her eyes stared ahead, cold and solid. “How dare you.” A voice like tar sizzled out of her.
“I’m sorry… I’m told I lost my memory… Who are you?”
A silent eternity. Then—
“How dare you.” The same words were repeated again, quaking louder in their echo.
With long violent strides like an animal, the unknown girl leapt over to Nanaya’s bed and grabbed the edges of her collar. Her hands, finely manicured, shook like a pulsating insect.
“Sorry—”
“You better be!” The girl screamed, pulling Nanaya upwards. “You better be sorry! I can’t believe you could…! You…! You…!” Her voice cracked, and she quickly screamed again before she could sob. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare fucking leave me like this after all you’ve done!”
Nanaya felt her body shaking. This was fear, she thought. This must be fear, and yet, it felt numb to her. This fear she should be feeling felt somehow empty. Whatever feeling she should be feeling for this girl, it was gone.
Perhaps seeing the expression in Nanaya’s eyes, the intruder shoved her back down on the bed and ripped open the left side of her hospital gown, exposing her breast.
“Look at this,” the girl hissed, flicking with her eyes towards a spot on Nanaya’s left breast. “You don’t—You don’t know where this is from?” A flare of desperation entered her voice towards the end.
Looking down, Nanaya did indeed see a scar on her chest. It was a small, reddish mark, the sign of the same repeated injury, over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and—
“I don’t,” she said, genuinely. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”
The girl pushed her away again and roared a furious cry, knocking a vase of flowers off the bedside table onto the ground.
White porcelain shattered into fractaling points, the flower petals scattering into a quick death. The site of the broken thing looked familiar, Nanaya thought.
Lips quivering, the girl fell to her knees. Her nails clawed and dug into her hairline until blood began to drip from her fingers. “Why?” The sobs were not suppressed this time. “I didn’t… I couldn’t tell you… That I was s—” She bit her own tongue before she finished her sentence. Hiccups and sobs overlapped. Surely any minute now hospital staff would come to escort her out for being violent, but the girl didn’t seem to care, only continuing to mutter.
“You should have let me, you should have let me, you should have let me, you should have let me…”
Nanaya looked down at her, and felt pity.