BLINK AND YOU'LL MISS IT
Blink.
Your memory has never been great.
Sure, you remember the general things happening in your life, and you remember the things that you should be doing most of the time. It has never been a problem.
But sometimes…you’ll find yourself somewhere and only vaguely remember why you are there, or feel like you only remember the vague outline of a whole day. Everything you do remember makes sense, and the few times when things feel…disjointed or there is bigger gaps don’t matter much.
What else would you have been doing apart from walking home? Was there even anything else to do, if you were not at class, in football practice or hanging out with Ai or Haru or at home? Did it really matter if maybe you wandered off a bit too long before getting back? Your mom never really minded.
When you think of these instances, you feel weird, like the memory you are looking for is on the tip of your tongue but always out of reach, distant. It makes your thoughts feel slow and foggy in a way that makes it hard to think about it, never quite uncomfortable, never really worrying.
So you guess it probably doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you can think about that you would have been doing then, anyways.
Why would it matter?
Blink.
Haru’s been acting different lately. It is a good change, in your opinion, at least for the most part.
He has always been a very thoughtful guy. You are surprised when you realize others don’t really notice just how much he cares.
But lately it feels like there is something else, there’s a subtle kind of confidence in how he’s acting lately that surprised you, but the more time passes the more it feels like this is something that had always been there, just less obviously, waiting under the surface.
You feel every day that passes that the comment you had made about him being a “protagonist” more than you is more real, more tangible in some way.
(You feel yourself nearly scoff at the idea, thinking about it one day. A feeling you can’t quite identify, there for a second and immediately gone before you can even process why you would react in such a way. It leaves you confused, how strange it had felt).
The thing that bothers you is how worried he looks sometimes, when he thinks you can’t tell, or when he thinks he’s alone. You see that something weighs on his mind, just like when he’s working out a particularly hard problem, but it feels more serious, somehow.
You’ve learned to not intrude too much into people’s problems unless you know for sure your help will be needed. Sometimes it is easy to tell when people need help, and you’d like to say you’ve gotten good at it, when it matters.
(You know sometimes to offer and then fail to help is worse than to not offer at all).
(You know sometimes bothering people too much is much, much worse).
You trust Haru. You trust him more than almost anybody else you know, and you know if he needs your help, he’ll be the first one to ask for it.
For now? You decide to stay by his side, as you always do.
You know more than anyone that company is sometimes the thing you need the most.
(Sometimes, you swear you could’ve heard something else, maybe someone else with him. But the voice feels muffled at times, fuzzy and indistinct, or you swear you could’ve heard something, but it cuts out, or you are too late to try to figure out from where it had come from, a weird flicker of light, a shape that you see for a second and then it’s gone, blurry or maybe never there. Sometimes, you even forget to pay attention).
(This is the first time you’ve actively felt annoyed at your bad memory).
(It won’t be the last).
Blink.
You find yourself lost in thought more than before.
You snap out of your daze more and more in places where you don’t have any good reason to be in, or at times where there’s no good explanation for why you’d be awake, or anywhere near there.
You think you should be more worried than you are but-
(Your thoughts as sluggish and hazy, even when you come to your senses. Any fear is immediately overwhelmed by a feeling not unlike static, muddled and hazy until you can’t tell you were even worried).
Why would you be worried?
Blink.
Haru’s new friends are an up-and-coming idol from Appliyama 470 (the face Watson had made when he had told both you and Ai who she was is one even you couldn’t forget. You teased him about it, both knowing there was no heat to it) and an extremely popular Apptuber (you might not be as caught up with these things as others, but even you have heard of Astora).
They’re both interesting people, even if both of them feel like they’re seconds away from fighting each other, you figure if Haru’s not worried, why would you be? He has known them for a bit more than you have, anyways.
It makes you happy to see him have more friends outside of your small circle that like to hang out at Ai’s dad’s bookstore.
(You wonder briefly if you have anyone like that outside of them and you think you don’t, not really. But you’ve always been happy like this: you vaguely know many people, but there’s only a few you’d call friends).
(The thought is quickly discarded afterwards).
Even with their bickering, you can’t shake a feeling like the one you’ve had before, that there’s something important about this, about them. The ways that they look at each other sometimes, the times when they’ll quickly change topic when they think someone else is nearby (you’re still never quite able to piece together anything in these conversations, not that you have tried particularly hard. It’s still not your problem unless they ask for your help directly, but you can’t stop feeling a bit curious, even then), the way they share a kind of determination, similar but not really the same as you’d noticed with Haru.
It feels like they’re already so close, even after becoming friends so recently. There’s something shared between them that you feel like you should be able to name, but it is always on the tip of your tongue, and then gone.
Even if he’s still worried, maybe more than he was before, you can see the ways in which the others do their best to help.
They so clearly care a lot about him, even after just having met him.
You’re not worried that Haru spends less time with your little group (and you, by extension).
If he’s happy, you are happy.
Blink.
You don’t talk to his new friends that much until later on.
Under the worst possible circumstances.
What was meant to be a chill outing with Haru and his friends ends up with you and Eri nearly in a train accident.
What are the odds?
(Infinitesimally small).
You’d enjoyed the rest of that day before.
(You mostly ignore the sting of headaches, and buzzing and weird whispers you can’t quite figure out. A weird feeling of being there and not quite there that won’t go away, distracting).
(Haru’s acting weird at the start but you trust him. You trust him and you don’t mind).
It’s easy to know why they’d gotten to be so close so fast when you’re included in their group.
What felt like actual spats at some point is now much more playful, you’re not sure if this is a new change or if you just hadn’t talked to both Eri and Astora long enough to notice, but even with the frustration there is a kind of…playfulness that you don’t miss. Hard to figure out but always there once you catch onto it.
The way everyone acts feels like they’ve known each other for longer than they actually have, and you can’t help but think about how easy it is for both you and Haru play along, fall to the background comfortably without feeling out of place either. You get it now.
It’s a shame it had to end the way it did.
You see a single message from him, promising that it will be alright and you’re sure that it will be. The fear doesn’t leave you (you’d be surprised if anyone in the train wasn’t terrified that day). But there’s something bright and warm that keeps you stable, knowing that he’s trying to help in some way helps.
You know him, you know how he is. Even if it feels impossible for him to solve something as big as a potential train crash.
In the chaos of the emergency you grab on to that feeling and don’t let go until the train stops and you’re met with Eri’s worried face and you can offer no real reassurances in the moment, just an awkward smile.
She listens to you talk with her about one of the memories not even you could forget: how you met Haru.
If Eri hadn’t understood before why you two are friends, maybe she does now.
But you’re sure that some part of her already knew how Haru is.
She just doesn’t know you well enough to get the full picture.
(You feel a twinge of sadness at the fact you’ve not talked to her and Astora more, but it just feels like anytime you see them they are busy in some way, and you wonder how Haru had even managed to meet either in the first place).
(You decide you want to get to know them better too, someday).
Blink.
Watson and Ai are talking in hushed whispers on day when Haru and his other friends aren’t there. They stop as soon as they notice you for a second, and then begin to talk faster as you get closer.
They stop to acknowledge you and Watson jabs at her with his elbow.
Ai asks you if you haven’t noticed something weird recently about Haru, looking at you with a curiosity mirrored in Watson.
And you can’t think of anything, not really, apart from him being more worried than usual lately.
(You think for a second of the noises, or maybe voices? and the headaches, but as soon as the thought pops up in your head it’s gone. Your bad memory and you misunderstanding things doesn’t have anything to do with this).
(You hope).
You don’t miss the way that Watson looks smug, and Ai just looks at you with worry, but they don’t explain anything else, quickly changing topic.
For the rest of the afternoon things continue as normal- or you’d like to say they do but anytime you try to think of that conversation it makes your head swim, foggy and unclear and when you come to you’ve missed a part of the conversation.
It’s a good thing you’re used to playing catch-up.
(You don’t miss how sad AI looks when she thinks you’re not paying attention).
(But you worry too much at night, and by the time morning comes you don’t remember those details apart from feeling sad about it yourself).
(You won’t remember this until much, much later).
(Too late).
Blink.
It worries you how much worse it has gotten.
You think about Haru and you see him so much more stressed, out of it even in class, and a particular day where he’d seemed nearly despondent, weirdly…scared. He hadn’t been this jumpy in years, and while you can still see a burning determination in his eyes something is wrong.
(You could say the same about your memory, more and more times appearing out of place, or just not remembering what you’d just been thinking about. Nothing left in the place of whatever thought had been there. But you think too hard about it and you can feel the same weird hazy feeling from before and decide that maybe you shouldn’t think about it anymore).
Blink.
You find out why he’s been so worried, and how he had met the others soon after.
You’re drawn into the sushi place by small details that even as distracted as you can be you notice, you notice the way things seem to be pulling you in. It draws you in so clearly that you can tell that you’re supposed to be here and nowhere else.
You meet a small creature, something like a dog that calls himself Offmon, and you’re given a choice by a strange device.
(You don’t have time to wonder why it feels so familiar before the thought is gone entirely, lost to the static you’re so used to by now. Instead there’s some feeling of certainty left, with no thought to tie it to anything else).
It asks you if you would die for someone.
And you think of Haru before anyone else.
(You feel a part of you strain against the thought with a vehemence that scares you. A feeling that you’re surprised you could even have that feels overlaid onto what you’re actually feeling).
You know in that instant that you would, even if you’ll later tell him that you wouldn’t have been sure until you had to. But you’ve always known, deep inside that you would’ve done anything for him.
(You feel a weird fear and anger, distant and hazy that feels yours but not yours, removed and yet still there, and you strain back against it).
You know it, more than anything else in the world that you would.
(It feels nearly like resentment).
Yes (No).
The moment you make your choice it feels like something is more right than it has been in months.
Blink.
From the moment you answer that one question, if it’s quiet enough, you swear you can hear the ticking of a clock…or something close enough to a clock, always there, always in wait.
(Tick)
Sometimes, if you think about it too hard, you think you forget again. But it never stops. It is always there to remind you it exists, underneath everything.
(Tick)
You feel that something is wrong. But it also feels like something is very right.
(Tick)
You’re not sure if it’s real. but you can only wait and see.
(Tick)
(You’re uncomfortable with the way a feeling like anticipation rises from your fears, but one time you think too hard about it one night and nearly black out, earning yourself the worry of your own buddy as he looks at you with his big, tearful, blue eyes and hopes you’re alright).
Blink.
Katsura rejects your handshake so purposefully you can’t tell if you’re taking it too to heart again and thinking too much about it. Haru says that is just how he can be, between awkward apologies, but something about it makes you feel weird.
Eri and Astora don’t think much of it either, having their own opinions about the hacker.
(Part of you wanted to look back at him in defiance, but you can’t understand why. You try your best to be polite and kind and hope that whatever it is you did to make him act like that, you can make up for it).
Blink.
You don’t remember what happened after the others escape from the AR Field.
You only remember a flash of light and then nothing, nothing at all.
(Offmon tells you later that you’d both been knocked out, but you’re worried by how that could’ve happened, and you can tell he’s unsettled too).
(You don’t think he actually remembers either, but you appreciate him trying to reassure you).
(It feels that he knows you more than you know yourself sometimes).
The next thing you do remember is hazy and unclear, hanging from your hands next to your buddy in some dark place, not entirely sure if you’re conscious or not.
(It feels like you are stuck between both at the same time, you try to move but find yourself weak, unable to even try and unable to remember how much time has passed, unable to think of much at all before the static in your head gets worse and makes everything spin even in the darkness of whatever place you’re being kept in).
(It feels like you’re nearly imagining it as there’s a different feeling from the back of your head, a mix of what nearly feels like boredom and amusement, briefly changing to concern at some point, reacting to something you don’t know, can’t know, but turning to static yet again the moment you even notice how weird that is).
(But you can’t think too much about it before the static disrupts your thoughts once again).
You’re left alone with the few thoughts you can manage to keep, and nearly laugh at how one of your few clear thoughts is to be glad that your mom had been on some business trip again, and that she wouldn’t need to worry about you for a bit longer.
(Your constant companion is the strange feeling separate from yourself and the near-constant ticking).
(Did it feel like it was getting faster?)
When the rest find you and Offmon and help both of you, you’re so relieved it becomes easy to put those feelings away for later.
(You don’t remember to think of them until later).
Blink.
You wake up these days more often than not with Offmon looking at you with something you can only read as concern, but he can’t explain to you why that is. He only holds you tight and makes what you can tell are excuses to be closer to you, to not leave you alone.
He knows something you don’t, but you take the headache and the pressure in your head as a hint to not think too much about it. You’d been getting good at telling when the feeling would begin lately.
It should worry you, but it doesn’t. It’s become too familiar, too common in the last few months. Nearly routine.
(You don’t worry for more than an instant about why you’d been sleeping sitting up. You know what will happen if you do).
As you hold him and try to think of anything else to go back to sleep you notice, with a start, that the ticking has gotten faster.
(You’re horrified at the torrent of feelings that come from it. Fast, far too fast for you to comprehend at all. A swirl of your own confusion and a light fear mixed in with what you can only describe as anticipation and some vague tint of regret for a second before a surge of something angry and violent overrides it).
As you fall asleep, you swear you could feel him apologize to you for not being able to help you more.
(Next thing you remember is waking up the next morning, feeling not quite rested, but also knowing that it’ll be worse if you think too hard about it).
Blink.
You remember asking your mom about your memory problems before, as a smaller kid.
(You wouldn’t have asked her, but some of the other kids had asked you about what you’d done before, if you had any funny stories, and apparently what you’d managed to tell them had been not enough to satisfy their curiosity, giving you looks as if to say “that’s all?” when it is all you can even remember).
(You try not to bother her too much these days, you know how hard she works. She’s a busy woman, and she doesn’t have much free time, so you cherish anytime you have opportunities to be with her more, even if just for a moment).
(You don’t mind how busy she is, how distant she seems. She always knows how to make you feel better, she always knows what you could ever want or need. Isn’t that enough? Wouldn’t you be ungrateful for asking more?).
(You think of the times you’ve visited Haru, and present his mom is all the time whenever you’re there, and you know it’s how their family works from the casual warmth shared between them).
(Her reassurances you’ll learn to eventually call cold, but at the time it feels fair, she is busy, after all).
She barely looks up from her computer, just enough to pinpoint where you are and absentmindedly tells you that some people just have worse memory, and that it is nothing to worry about. Barely a minute, probably less, before telling you to go play somewhere else.
She is busy, after all.
At the time, this is enough. You trust her, more than anyone else.
(Barely. Thinking too much about it, even the idea of asking her more had the same confusing static quality of your later episodes, it had the same feeling of forgetting something for you, but you had been too young, too new to even notice).
At the time, you decide that it probably doesn’t matter that much.
(You never even think to ask about your dad, who he was, why he wasn’t there anymore. The thought doesn’t even cross your awareness).
(The other kids apart from Haru never get quite close enough to you to ever ask about it, and they’re used to your responses about your mother being vague and uninteresting, so they eventually drop the topic).
(You later think of this, when the headaches and the blurry spots in your memory get worse, and decide to not ask her anymore).
(She is busy, after all).
Blink.
You feel out of place among the rest, they share a kind of camaraderie you try to fit in but don’t feel like you quite can. And you want so desperately to be able to be as close to them as they seem to be to each other.
But you sit there, passively and watch, watch as Eri and Astora snip at eachother with more and more warmth as time passes, when you learn from just watching how much is too much and how they’ve become adept at prodding just enough to tease, and never to hurt even when it feels like a direct attack without that context.
You sit there and feel the way the room lights up as Astora and Musimon seem to bring a uniquely bright energy anytime they’re in the room, anytime they try to motivate the others to join them for making in a video, never losing a second of that energy even when things don’t go to plan. Even when placed into danger.
You see Eri and the way she’s got more determination than nearly anyone else you’ve ever met. You know from the passionate way she throws herself into anything that stands in her way that even if her threats of violence are all bark and no bite she would do anything for everyone else in the room.
You feel out of place intruding in on something you shouldn’t be witnessing, as you see the sheer affection that Rei has for his little brother, a situation shared to you at some point by Haru that had earned you a distrustful glare from Rei the moment you had mentioned anything.
His attitude towards you never changed, never wavered from the same hands-off distrust he showed you at the start, but seeing the way he is towards his brother you can only agree with Haru that you would trust him, even if he didn’t trust you.
It feels like you’re separated from them, there and not quite there at the same time, but something stops you from trying to get closer, as much as you want to.
(You feel like something about this is ironic but you don’t know why. There’s a strange feeling of satisfaction that is not yours, so clearly, but you can’t talk about it, you can’t think about it, it’s gone in an instant, leaving you with your own feelings of loneliness, even as you are in a room with people you think have the closest bond to each other you’ve ever seen).
(You’re left alone with your own thoughts, an alien feeling of resentment that you feel horrified at the moment you notice….and the ominous ticking of a clock you can never find).
You know, in that moment, that this can’t last.
Blink.
As you look at the night sky, your best friend expressing such a hopeful, yet mundane thought for the future, even as moved as you are you’re chilled to your core by realizing you can’t think of the future at all.
(Had you never thought of the future before? Or was it something that your headaches had masked, every time you attempted redirected, disrupted, to the point where you’d decided it wasn’t worth to think about it at all, decided that the thought was so far away that it wouldn’t matter? You can’t tell, you can’t tell at all).
Not a single idea, not a single thread to hang onto, just the same null of static you’re oh-so used to, just the same blur of nothing, but without a prior memory to erase you’re aware of what it is, you’re aware that there’s nothing where there should be something. Anything.
Even your buddy’s presence doesn’t quell the feeling of wrong that fills you as you realize this.
(But you feel something else, you but not quite you, you feel anticipation, you feel an eagerness and a desperation, the same resentment from before, brought back to your hazy memory vaguely, with a fury that scares you).
As you ask the single person you trust in the world more than anyone else what it would mean for AI to surpass humanity, you feel the words are yours too, but not quite yours. Your fear mixes in with the anticipation and resentment, and an aftertaste of guilt leaving you paralyzed in so many feelings you can barely understand any of them.
You’re left with your concerns, their worry.
And always, always the ticking.
(And come next morning, you will remember the words, but not what you felt, not entirely at least).
(Only the afterimage of your own fear).