part of the miki shinichirou drabble effort. with apologies to alfian sa'at for the title. ---------------------- a history of amnesia ---------------------- It's just a name; two neutral syllables, frustrating in their ambiguity. Ryou almost wishes there was more he could attach to it - a memory of colour or voice or touch, perhaps - but ultimately this is all he has: a name and a tarnished katana, awkward and too heavy in his hands. *** Ryou does not recall much of his dreams, and he tells himself that it would be little use either way. The past is something he has chosen to leave behind, and by now he has abandoned even the last clue to his yesterdays. There are no more loose ends to which he owes a conclusion - that knowledge, and Asuka's smile, are enough for him. ( He still thinks about that meeting, sometimes: the young man, eyes darkened by disappointment, smiling tremulously at the recalled name. The answers Ryou comes up with are never enough to explain the sadness in those eyes. ) When he is being a bit more honest with himself, he accepts that it was not his choice to make in the first place. The confession absolves him of responsibility, just a little, though it never quite soothes the pain of the disorientation in the moments when he wakes without expecting to find a warm body next to his. *** There is a clean, shiny scar on each of Ryou's palms, matching the too-smooth patch of skin on one shoulder. Asuka tells him that hot steel burns deep and he is lucky to have escaped merely with scars, especially ones as faint as those. Now that the blade which delivered them is gone, they are mere shadows of a souvenir, and Ryou wonders if he will forget them as time wears the newness off their form. Ryou wonders too many things, and all he knows is that time can steal everything from him but that name: two damning syllables, reminding him only of what he has already forgotten.