Chapter Text
Ivan woke up to the sound of beeping. Everything hurt, but his hip and side hurt the most. He could barely open his eyes. It took him a full minute of blinking to get them open. Blinking…the word brought up something in his memory. His memory. What happened to his memory? He knew his name, at least. Where was he? He forced his eyes to open wider. He was in a sterile room. A hospital room, a big one at that. The beeping was from the machines. The machines keeping him alive. The last time he’d been in a hospital, it’d been because of–
“Ivan?”
Ivan tried his best to turn his head. It hurt way too much. He eventually resorted to twitching his eyes. From his blurred vision, he saw a short, thin figure with gray hair in the doorway. He had on green pants and a white shirt. Had he known this guy? Ivan tried to remember. The figure gulped, not moving from the doorway.
“Ivan..,” the figure started talking, then choked, and then the rhythmic beeping was all Ivan heard.
Come on, you dunce. Remember! This guy obviously knew you. Ivan thought. Gray hair, green pants, white shirt, blink, guitar.
Guitar? The guy didn’t have a guitar on him. Ivan was remembering! The guy played guitar.
Guitar. Guitar and blink. Blink…gone? Blink gone?
For some reason, those two words together made Ivan’s blood boil. He couldn’t quite name the feeling…jealousy? Those two words made him feel jealous for some reason. But he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way. He had to remember.
Guitar? Blink gone is a song that uses the guitar! I’m getting somewhere!
“The doctor said you might have problems with your memory,” the figure spoke once more, tentatively moving closer to Ivan’s bedside. “I just didn’t think it would be…,”
He stopped talking, but Ivan knew what he’d wanted to say. He didn't think I'd be this bad. I’m bad. I’m bad bad bad bad bad.
“Do…Do you remember…anything?”
“Yo-u–,” pain shot up into Ivan’s throat. It was so shocking he physically shook, which did nothing to help his already aching body. I…I can’t talk? But what if I remember? Guitar! I need to say guitar!
“Gui-,” the pain came back this time, quicker. Ivan gave up, and looked over at the figure, trying to seem apologetic. All he really was was tired. He made a pitiful croaking sound, the least painful sound he could muster. Something about his situation filled Ivan with uncontrollable dread. Why would not being able to speak fill him with dread? Had his voice been important to him before?
“Oh. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be able to talk,” the figure said. The figure sounded scared about that. Why? Ivan thought. It’s not like I’ll die if I can't talk.
“Can you write?” The boy asked, somewhat hopeful.
Ivan blinked. Blink gone. His memory really needed to stop doing that. His body ached with numbing pain and fatigue, but if he could move his mouth…
Ivan twitched his finger. It moved. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to lift his wrist. Perhaps he could write. The figure’s eyes widened, and then he quickly masked his expression. He handed Ivan a pen and paper. Ivan took it from the figure.
he figure. I can’t just keep calling him a figure.
Y–O–U–R—N–A–M–E–?
Ivan wrote, and then looked up expectantly at the figure. Maybe if he could get his name, he’d remember more!
The figure's hopeful face fell and he started to cry.
Ivan was shocked. Why was the figure crying? Was it from joy, from sorrow? Sorrow. Stupid interfering memories. Was the figure glad he could write? Was the figure crying at Ivan’s pain? What was going on? The figure was still sobbing, but it had dwindled to quiet sniffles.
“T–uh…Llit. My name is Llit,” he clarified, writing it down on Ivan’s paper.
L-L-I-T.
Ivan tried not to look disappointed. That name rang up nothing.
“Do you remember anything?” Llit asked again. “About…all this?”
G-U-I-T-A-R—A-N-D—B-L-I-N-K—G-O-N-E.
Llit’s eyes gleamed at the first word, or was Ivan hallucinating? Llit did flinch at the last word Ivan wrote. “So you remember the songs?”
Songs? Am I a singer? Images of a stage, of a mic, and of huge stands suddenly filled Ivan’s mind.
C-O-M-P-E-T-I-O-N
Ivan wrote immediately. That’s why not being able to sing had filled him with dread, why Llit seemed scared at his inability to talk. He was in a competition. A singing competition. And he guessed Llit was, too.
“So you remember that much, at least.” Llit had ceased his crying, but his eyes looked more hollow. Had Ivan’s question about his name offended him, perhaps?
“Do you remember how you got here?”
Ivan tried to remember. He was in a competition…he’d won his first round. His second round…everything blurred.
N-O
Llit’s forlorn expression somehow got worse. Ivan quickly wrote again.
I mean, I know I was in a competition, and something happened, a penalty for me losing. I got hurt. I ended up here.
He quickly added:
Please don’t cry again.
He didn’t know why he’d written that. For some reason, seeing Llit cry because of him made Ivan want to tear himself to shreds.
Llit’s expression calmed, if only just a little, at Ivan’s final sentence.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop,” Llit said, sniffling.
No, don’t stop. Keep crying, keep sobbing. Say my name until you can’t breathe. Think of me, me, only me. I want to be a parasite in your head. Cry for me, cry for me, CRYFORME–
Ivan felt like throwing up all of a sudden. What was that? His face must have changed, because Llit suddenly looked worried.
“Are you okay?”
Ivan felt his breathing slow down. Seriously, what had just happened? Those thoughts made him feel awful but…somewhere deep inside, Ivan wanted them so badly to be reality. He hated that. Was he a manipulative person? Was he mean?
Am I evil?
“No, you’re not!”
Llit’s outburst spooked Ivan back to reality. He looked down. He hadn't even realized he’d written that question down.
“You’re not….you’re not evil, Ivan,” Llit said, somewhat reassuringly.
My name, my name, my name. Have it be the only name on your lips. My name, all mine, only mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, MINE, MINE, MI-
There was a knock at the door. Llit barely mumbled a “come in,” before two girls–well, really one girl–burst into the room.
“IVAN!!!!” The girl squealed, practically throwing herself at him. Ivan winced. This girl clearly had no idea of personal space. She had medium-length pink hair, and she smelled nice, like a flower. She seemed nice, friendly. Ivan felt light around her. Maybe she was important to him? To some degree, Ivan felt that way. So why, why, why did the pit of his stomach feel like exploding into a million pieces at the sight of her?
“Wait,” Llit started, “Remember how Sua was? He doesn’t remember our names–”
“Oh.” The girl’s face fell a little bit, and she got off from on top of Ivan. “Sorry, I just—”
“M….iz…i.”
Llit stared at Mizi. Mizi started at Llit. They both stared at each other, then at Ivan, then back at each other. Mizi looked about ready to throw the biggest party ever and Llit looked…somewhat sad?
“YOU REMEMBER MY NAME!!!!” She squealed again.
Mizi squeals a lot. Ivan thought. But it wasn’t surprising. She’d always seemed like a puppy in the garden.
Garden?
Why yes, of course…the garden! Pictures of grassy fields, trees, and robot creatures filled Ivan’s head. Home? No…Images of the garden felt inviting, yes, but something felt…off about them.
“Helloo? Earth to Ivan?”
Mizi was right in his face now. Ivan twitched. He couldn't move back if he tried. But he could talk! Even if it hurt.
I can talk!!!
"Do you remember Sua?" Mizi asked, motioning to a third figure in the room.
Ivan shifted his gaze to a figure using crutches. She had black hair and looked pretty, but also not pretty? Her name was Sua, right? Something about her standing close to Mizi made the ache in Ivan's stomach go away.
They're dating.
They're what?
That's right. Mizi and Sua are...
Memories started flooding back. Aliens. The garden. The training. The "checkups." Where was he? Had he escaped?? But how? Losing meant getting--
Ivan's side immediately started to hurt, and this time he knew why.
He'd been shot.
Mizi...she'd escaped, right? Hadn't Sua been shot? Was this what this was? A rescue mission? How had they brought back Sua??
"Ivan." Sua gave him a curt nod. Ivan snapped back to reality again.
Formal as ever. She'd always been more open with Mizi anyway.
"H....i," Ivan croaked.
"Well, he's gained his memory back faster than Sua did, it seems," Mizi commented, wrapping her arm around Sua's torso. Ivan's eyes immediately went to Llit. Why'd I do that? Was there something special about Llit and Mizi?
"I guess. Well, that'll make the transportation easier, don't you think T-"
"Llit," Llit quickly interrupted Sua's sentence.
Sua looked at Mizi. Mizi looked at Sua. They looked... confused?
"Give us a second, Ivan," Llit said, guiding the two out of the room.
Ivan was alone again. Somehow, that hurt worse than not remembering anything.
Thanks for reading this!! I’m going to say it here, this was written for a school project, so sorry if it felt “dumbed down.” Because this was for a school project, I don’t really ever plan on finishing this fic, but I hate not knowing what’ll happen in unfinished fics, so I’ll write it here!!! The fic was supposed to be an AU where Mizi, Sua, Till, and Ivan made it out alive, but when Ivan came to, he couldn’t member Till!! Till was supposed to be happy, he’d “hated” Ivan, after all. But, with all that happens, Till finds himself missing Ivan more and more, and eventually realizes he actually had feelings for him, despite everything. And at the end of the fic Ivan was going to finally remember Till’s name and, obviously, Till, and then they were going to get together and teah
If anyone wants to take this idea and run with it (unlike my lazy ass), go ahead! Just give me credit if I inspired you.
:p