1 A Morning of Troubles

The morning light hits my face, I can tell the source of light comes from the window on my left. On the right I feel a mass, I blink a few times then turn to see a shirtless man lying next to me. He has soft orange hair, thin lips, and overall a striking face. Striking or not I did not know this place. His bed, this window, this beige curtain which is being danced around by the warm wind nor do I know this man, this shirtless man next to me nor why is it a 'man'.

Probably taller, I can tell by the way his feet stuck out of the dark blanket. He is in deep sleep, his eyebrows furrowed, lips parted slightly. I slowly take the blanket off me, what I expect is not the case. I am fully clothed. Then? The question revolves around in my head and it hits me, I am not only not aware of this bed, this room, and this man but neither do I remember why am I here and what I did last night that led me here. Maybe I got drunk and the hangover would not allow me to remember, taking better of my memory? But there are no symptoms of my nightly rendezvous. No headache, no nausea. I feel amazingly fine. Just thirsty, I walk towards the door looking around.

The room is decorated with mild simplicity and sophistication. Brown and beige colors thrown around. As I look around at the calming beauty of this room, making mental notes, this is exactly how I want my room to look when I finally marry. My eyes fall upon a photo frame, the frame is decorated with handpicked shells inside is a picture of two men, young. They are smiling, the shorter on the back of the taller, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Former smiling at the camera. The other is smiling up at his lover. The way I see them smile, the way their faces touch, I know they are happy. I freeze because the one on the back of the man, the man in the bed right now, is no one other than me. That weird dazed calm feeling that I had when I woke up is far gone replaced by utter confusion and underlying fear.

I can feel my lips quiver as I look back at the sleeping man. Anger boils inside me, I have no recollection of where the anger is generated from or to whom or what it aims at. Anger and confusion are all I feel as I shriek "WHO ARE YOU!"

The man shuffles but doesn't wake up. "I SAID WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"' I shout again. This time the man sits up a bit surprised because of the sudden interruption of his peace.

"Who are you…" I almost whisper this time; aware of my unthreatening demeanour. Like a lost mouse scurrying around in a trap.

The traces of surprise wash away from his features. He is calm, looking at me with kind eyes. Bastard, I know the self-righteous and condescending types. "Who are you?" I glare at him.

'Ryu… he slowly gets off the bed wearing his slippers and walks over to me. I take a step back. He isn't offended nor does he try to say kind words, persuading me to let him come closer.

He just sits on the bed's edge, "'Ryu, love, calm down okay? anything? Coffee?"

I look at him, hell I am thirsty and yes, I do love coffee. "Sure," I say slowly examining him, and then it dawns on me.

"No, actually I am quite fine," should have gotten myself a glass of water before he woke up. He sighs "Ryu, I won't drug it," I stop in my tracks. "What?" Does he read minds or something? or has he been in this situation numerous times? how many times has he gotten people laid unwittingly?

"Ryu, coffee?"

"F-fine."

I slowly wander around in the living room, looking around as he makes coffee for me and tea for himself. It troubles me, why did he ask me for coffee if, he was going to have tea in the first place? The answer was quite simple and yet horrifying. Unless he knew I preferred coffee.

"Here."

His clear voice brings me out of my thoughts. He hands me a white coffee mug on it I see the initials R.N.

"What a coincidence," I give him a small awkward laugh; he raises a brow questioningly.

"My initials are the same," He sighs for the hundredth time. He wears an expression of dire exhaustion as if he can not bear it today. "What?" I ask looking at him.

"Sit down Ryu, Ryu Nakahara." Huh? he knows my last name?

"Ask?" He prompts.

"Ask what?" I look at him puzzled.

"Ask what you have to. I know you want to," I look at his exposed self, only in a pair of boxers. "Why am I here?"

"It's your house," He sips his tea; the weather is slightly chilly and I can see the hot steam rising over the mug.

"I…" I know my eyebrows must be furrowed as I speak to him, "I don't remember it."

"You have amnesia."

"Have what?"

"Amnesia." He repeats and quickly chugs down his coffee, it must still be too hot, I can sense his impatience to excuse himself to the kitchen, to go away.

"How," I am still not used to the word. Is it a sick joke? But still, inside, a weird gut feeling, the one that knows the answer somehow, says it isn't. I know he must be telling the truth. It's the trust I feel towards him, even though, I cannot track up the events that led to that trust.

"Accident, you had an accident a long time ago."

"How long ago?"

"Three years."

I gasp, "I have been here for three years?"

"You mean this house? No, five years," I see him start washing the mug in the kitchen sink. Either he doesn't want to face me or he likes cleaning a lot, cause well, goddamit, who does the dishes first thing in the morning?

"Five?," I stand up "What the hell dude."

"Ryu, we have been married for 6 years and you and we have been living here almost a year after. We really wanted this."

I snicker. "The hell to you and your sick stories," I run for the door. He doesn't budge to catch me but it's to no avail. It has a fingerprint lock system.

"Am I kidnapped?" I look back at him horrified.

"I am your husband, Ryu."

I feel helplessness seep in because I know, even if I had gotten out of the locked door. I wouldn't know a thing. No matter how hard I try, I am unable to remember anything. All I remember is that I am supposed to be a university student. That, I am supposed to wake up in my dorm room and that, it is supposed to be middle cold winter, not autumn.

"I do not remember marrying you, whatever your fucking name is!"

"Hideki Asagiri."

"Okay!" I stomped my foot frustrated, the fact that he was so nonchalant and familiar with his surroundings made me, almost envious. "Okay, Hideki Asagiri, I do not remember ever marrying you, much less loving you."

I see his eyes quiver momentarily and he looks away and I realize, he looks more pained than me.

"I know," is all he says, weighted down with what I recognize is grief and I feel compelled. I cautiously walk to him and wrap my arms around him, wrapping him in a hug. I do not care anymore if it is, after all a bad university joke. He seems surprised by the touch. But he eases up and buries his face in my neck, his breathing feels really good on my neck, reassuring. His soft ginger hair smells amazing, like tangerines. I do not remember him but somehow, I can remember smelling this before and I feel a sudden flash of images flicker before me, like a fuzzy memory. He buried in my chest as I kiss his hair soothingly. He was sobbing in my seeming anamnesis.

"Ryu…Y-you, please, try to remember me," his voice brings me back to reality and as I hear his sobbing voice, I am certain, this is the voice I heard crying in my little vision.

"I do believe you, my husband," He looks up at me with a faint smile on his lips. He leans to kiss me but stops mere inches away, cautious if I would accept it. I lean in, meeting my lips to his, "I do not remember loving you for six years but I know I love you, at this moment."