𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝘬. 𝘻𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘺𝘤𝘬

𝟏. 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐄

Y/N POV

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, but I can't bring myself to wipe them away. They continued to stream down my face as I lay in bed, hands clutching the sheets, the soft fabric twisting and wrinkling. 

The door burst open and in rushed Kalluto. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

I freeze in place. I didn't think I was crying that loudly. Wordlessly, I nod and then turn in the bed to face away from him. 

Kalluto sighs and walks over to me, crossing his legs and sitting on the bed. "What are you thinking about? Are you sure that you're okay? I'm sorry, I'm not that good at comforting. I can stay here with you for tonight if you'd like." 

I softly shake my head, and the only sound made in the room is from the rough scraping of fabric against fabric. I'm unable to make any noise for fear that I might start sobbing louder.

Kalluto sighs again. "Well, sleep soon, because Phinks wants us somewhere tomorrow, okay?" He tells me, before getting up and closing the door gently. I hear his footsteps recede and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

Kalluto's question comes floating through my mind. 

What are you thinking about?

'Killua. Mother.' My lips form the words, but no sound comes out from it. I close my mouth again and push the blankets further over me.

It had been three years since I had met Killua in the hospital room. Three long years. But ever since then, not once has the snow-haired boy crossed my path. 

I had been released from the hospital an hour after the boy had left me. The little girl who was with him, who had called Killua her brother, had also left, but not before waving a gentle wave in my direction. 

I had smiled kindly and then she disappeared from sight.  Strangely enough, not many other people had come to visit me, even though when I had first woken up, Killua had exclaimed that so many people were worried for me. 

Walking throughout Yorknew City - at least, that's what I was told the city was called - in a hospital gown had drawn me more than a few odd looks. I hadn't minded them, though. All my mind could think about was what Killua told me. 

Lost my memory. How could I have lost my memory? And how important was I to that boy, that he cried over me?

I had worked hard to get my life back, then. I had pushed the goal of getting back my memories into the back of my mind; my first priority would be to assess what had happened in my life after I had donated lots of my mother's money and began living on the streets.