[I] (1/3)

[Disclaimer: I, as a writer, only function well when I plot the entire story out. This story, however, I have not planned whatsoever. Why? Because I find writing to be more fun when I go with the flow. I find it more fulfilling when I create a coherent and plotted story, however.

Therefore, lower your expectations. After all, I'm writing this purely for my own enjoyment.]

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Something had happened to him. Something he couldn't reverse.

The last thing he could remember was a deep sense of loss. A mountain of regret and a sprinkle of… failure. He'd failed someone, or something, and as a result he lost everything.

That, and he remembered fire.

If he had a clear mind, he likely could've mended these shattered thoughts into a coherent one, but he just couldn't. There was something wrong with his body that just didn't let him.

He kept throwing up, kept pushing and spilling things, and for some reason he couldn't control his emotions. That sense of loss pushed him to cry himself to sleep and then forget about it the next day. Every thought he had would get derailed by the next, mostly because the world around him was… confusing.

A blurry mess of colors with too bright lights and too dark shadows. Sensations he didn't know existed or had long forgotten about poked him, confusing him even more.

Was he sick? Was he dying? Was he on the strongest bad trip the world had ever seen? He'd never been much of a drinking or drugs type of guy, despite being around people who were into that sort of thing, but it was still a possibility. And how would being drugged out of his mind relate to a fire?

Whatever had happened, that fire was the only constant. Every day, it haunted him. Confusion racked his mind thinking about it, but it was clear that fire was important. A catalyst for something. The catalyst that pushed him over an edge and into… this.

Whatever it was, it had messed him up something fierce.

Likely something was wrong with his brain, no sickness lasted that long.

Or maybe it did… he wasn't a doctor and his medical prowess was low to say the least. He was more of a math guy than a science nerd.

And it's not like it'd be farfetched to say something happened to his brain. As far as he knew, the brain was a squishy meatball that fell apart at the lightest of injuries to it.

It would explain why everything looked so… off. His arms seemed like little twigs and everything else seemed so big. Something to do with his perception in funky ways. Depth perception? Size perception? Both?

Plus, if his brain was messed up that badly, he must've been in a hospital…

Not.

It had been months since he'd first woken up in this drunken hell and it was clear he wasn't in a hospital. Nor was he in his own home. There were two people who consistently came and left, his primary caretakers, and he didn't recognize either. One was a tanned man with an… interesting hairstyle colored burgundy and blue eyes. He looked ridiculous with his hair like that and his sideburns so angular. The other was a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair that came down in a singular bang. She looked pretty normal all things considered, even if her eyes were a very rare shade of green.

Were these his caretakers or his kidnappers? And why did they keep speaking a weird dialect of Japanese at him like he'd understand what the hell they were saying? And to top it all off, they kept calling him that weird ass name… Who in the name of all that is holy was Haruki?!

His name was… uh… it was…

Well, it damn sure wasn't Haruki that was for sure. It was getting annoying not being able to clearly remember things. And that meant he couldn't rely on his memories.

He needed to get up, thank these nice people for taking care of him, and stop freeloading like a bum. And then he needed to find out what the hell happened to him.

So that's what he set out to do.

It took even more months, but he could feel himself getting better. He could see clearer, and the sensations were lessening in intensity. After a while he even managed to flip himself over and hold his head up again.

If the bright smiles from the very confusing caretakers were any consolation, then he was going in the right direction. He still didn't know what they were saying, but it sounded encouraging. And he was picking up on a few words here and there.

Mostly just basic ones they often said to him, but it was an improvement nonetheless.

Each day he was getting better. And each day it became easier and easier to think.

Despite that though, he was getting a bit antsy to start walking soon. Or to start doing… anything, soon. He'd started having tantrums because of how bored he was, just causing a ruckus for a bit of entertainment.

Man, was it embarrassing. He was almost ready for college and here he was acting like a…

…A child.

No, that couldn't be true. He couldn't have….

But what if it was? What if something had happened to him, because of the fire, and he…

Was that why he couldn't remember things clearly? If that was the case, why did he remember anything at all?

For a moment, his realization started to put things into perspective. And yet, it seemed like a crazy notion. One that he had to confirm with his own eyes.

Or, ears, in this case.

He abruptly sat up, startling the man beside him. And with a fat, grubby little finger, he pointed straight at him.

"You!"

That wasn't… the most intelligent way to ask that, but he didn't exactly have a fluent grasp on the language. Also, he was freaking out.

The strange looking man stared back at him in fond amusement, furrowing his brows and simply staring at him. It wasn't the first time he'd spoken to his caretakers, but he often just… didn't.

The guy didn't seem to catch on. He scrunched his nose in annoyance and confusion. It was hard to focus on one thought at a time.

He pointed at himself. "Me, Haruki!" Then he huffed, lowering his voice to normal levels. The language was still extremely awkward for him. "Y-you?"

Thankfully, the man finally seemed to catch on, "Me? I'm the main man! Father. Pops. Your dad!" He paused, noticing his blank stare. "Can you say daddy for daddy, Haruki?"

Ah.

His… dad kept trying to convince him to say it with him, but Haruki zoned out- ignoring him completely. He didn't understand half of what the guy was saying, if he was honest, but he knew the word 'Dad'.

That confirmed it, then. He'd died. Probably in that fire he couldn't stop thinking about. And now he was here, reborn as some jackass named Haruki.

Just… great.

In hindsight, he probably should've realized something was up when he didn't have any teeth… And when they kept giving him a pacifier. That, coupled with the tens of other things that should've tipped him off.

Baby brain was not very conducive for critical thinking, huh?

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Writing schedule is in Author's Notes & in the description. But until Saturday it will be daily just to get the story off the ground.