He woke up with a shudder. A large gasp of cold, stale air of a room. His eyes darted around to find sense in between the darkness, and settled on a point of light.

A window. There were curtains on it - thick, solid woolen ones - but the one drawing them across had left a little separation, beyond which the glass was cold, with little lines of frost lining the bottom.

And beyond that, the first hints of dawn were in the sky, and the first rays had kissed the peaks of mountains. There were a chain of them, tips tinted red from the dawn, with dark rocks and white snow. He thought they must have been really tall, because he was lying down on a bed and looking up at the red glow off the mountains almost near the lintel.

So, he was in a room.

The bed was comfortable. But, soon, he felt various tubes inserted into him in awkward, uncomfortable places. His wrist was pierced, and a tube run with liquid that dripped from a bag hung on a pole beside him. A tube he felt was inserted between his legs.

I am alive. He thought.

Yes. This was nothing.

He pulled it out with a grunt. His teeth clenched after a momentary period of pain, he pulled out the needle in his arm.

Where am I?

He was in a room. Darkness was breaking, his eyes had begun to see from the faint light of the breaking dawn.

If only I could …

He had to get to the window to have a good look outside. Maybe even fling them open, so as to let the light in.

Gasping hard, maybe even bleeding, he swung his legs from under the warm and comfortable blanket and landed them on a type of carpet - something that he had never felt before. If only he could see what it was - if only he could figure out where he was, and what he was doing here.

Then, when he stood up in that cold air that had diffused itself from the outside, he remembered that he hadn’t asked himself the most important question of them all.

Who am I?

His legs gave way - there was no strength in them - and in that moment he wasn’t even sure if he actually knew how to stand.

He fell with a thud, full on his face. The carpet was gentle and not so cold as he had feared. But, it hurt, damn it. He let out a defeated groan.

He lay there on the mat, the purple sky of the dawn now hidden beyond the wooden walls of the room. He turned his head to the other side to see a set of sliding doors, framed with wood, but having a sort of wooden lattice over white panes of something. What was it? Where was this?

There are bigger problems here. Think.

He had no memory of himself. He knew that humans needed history - that people had parents, that people had friends, and accomplishments, and first-loves, and passions of music and arts. But although he seemed to know things, he didn’t have any for himself.

As if his memories had holes.

Nay, a gaping void.

A set of careful footsteps rushed towards him. He could hear them on the floor. A little speck of light appeared, clearly a flickering candle, beyond the doors, through the translucent white gaps between the wooden lattice.

And the doors slid open.

Beyond them stood a bewildered girl, her concern turning to a heightened panic when she saw the bed empty. She was hardly more than a kid, right between that awkward phase of rapid growth between young adulthood and bucktoothed carefree smiles on a swing.

“Nnnn…” She had her eyes widened in surprise and fear.

Hardly the competent adult he wanted.

He wanted to say something to her, but his words failed. His voice failed.

Look at the floor, kid.

She walked into the room, timidly. “Kuro-nii?” she called.

He grunted through his nose.

And then she saw him, face planted on the floor, and longish hair covering his face against the shadows.

“Kuro-nii!” she cried, and putting the candle on a table in the middle of the room, she came to him hurrying, causing strands in her beautiful dark hair to become more dishevelled.

“Oh, Kuro-nii, I’m so happy. I so, so happy!” she cried beside him. She cradled his head with a gentle embrace.

“Kuro-nii, I missed you so much! Come on, let’s get you up. Come on, one arm around my shoulder. Come on.”

To his surprise, she could lift him up easily enough. Even though he thought he had generated some power at the final push, he was frail. He was thin. He felt like someone who had been ill for a while.

She set him down gently on the bed. And after she had put the blanket back on him, she pulled him into an embrace. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and dropped on his forehead. As if in fury of losing her composure, her arms pulled him in tighter. His arms too went around her, and they stayed like that, silent and still, till the purples vanished from the brightening sky.

“I thought you’d never wake up,” she said. “But, I’ve been to see you everyday, Kuro-nii. Everybody came to see you. Naoya, Mother, every one. It’s been so long.” She looked at him, suddenly all smiles. Her stray strands fell on his face, and he felt her hands cupping caressing his face.

Suddenly, when she saw his eyes, her smile faded. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He grunted. And shook his head.

“Kuro-nii. Brother. Dearest brother, hey … what’s wrong? Don’t you remember me? Your Narumi? Don’t you remember me?”

“Doc-” tor? It was the first thing he had said since the time her had woken up, beside the grunts.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll get the doctor. I’ll get him soon. Wait, wait. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.”

She ran out of the room, with all her streaking tears and sense of panic.

Sister? I have a sister.

He could see the mountains now lit with the Sun. The searing blue of early morning had coloured the sky. It was a bright day without a cloud to be seen. And he felt that wasn’t such a bad way to come back from the dead.