Help Me Remember (Chapter (1/2)

He woke up squinting his eyes as he rubbed his head to ease the pain from whatever caused this random headache; though he couldn’t remember drinking the day before, or what he had done to have this headache. He tried to remember, to recall such vague memories; nothing came to. Stretching his sore muscles, he slipped out of whoever’s bed this belonged to, and headed into what he figure out was the owner’s bathroom, hoping that they would have some pain killers. Thankfully, he found them inside of the mirror cabinet and swallowed them with tap water until he felt like they were moving into his stomach. Just as he was about to leave, however, the mirror closed with a small bang and saw a man in it.

He stared at it, wondering who it was that was in the mirror staring at him back. Taking a closer look, he leaned in and realized that the <i style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;line-height:18px;">man in the mirror was him. He brought his hands up, touching the fairly white skin and slapping it, still unable to believe that this person was him. And now that he thought about it while looking so hard at himself, who exactly was he? Shrugging since it probably might come to him later, he left the bathroom, feeling a little bit better after taking a painkiller. As soon as the door closed behind him, he stopped in his tracks after seeing a picture of him, probably while he was younger, smiling along with the person next to him in between two other pictures.

He immediately grabbed the frame, wondering what in the world he was doing in this picture besides someone he never met before. He looked up again, to the wall, and saw that he was in another picture but with a different person with an even huge grin. The other picture had the person he had seen in the first frame, smiling huge with another kid he didn’t know. This all confused him so much. If the wide-grinned person and the person with him in the first picture knew him this well, then how come he didn’t know who they were, or who he himself was? As if his questions were heard, a thinly and small body bumped so carelessly against him.

“J? Are you feeling better?” This person asked him, his head down while his hands were probably rubbing his eyes.

“W-who are you?” He ignored the question as he backed up with the frames pressed against his chest.

“J, it’s...” The man looked up, his eyes showing nothing in them as a pained expression ran through his face; it only last for a while when the latter smiled. “...I’m Ninomiya Kazunari, nice to meet you.”

“I... You’re the person here?” He asked him, ignoring the fact he had to introduce himself when he didn’t even know his name, and shoved the frame towards the man’s chest. He saw him look to his right where all the frames rightfully belonged before putting them back up, and sighing as he stared at them. “Yeah... But that doesn’t matter right now. Does your head still hurt?”

He was about to nod his head when the man’s hand was placed against his forehead. It stayed there for awhile, checking whatever what was wrong with his head before the man pulled away and smiled. He wanted to say something, or even ask him a million questions, but he couldn’t do it since he was pulled away by his hand. When he thought he finally had the chance to do so, he was instead sat on a chair and something was being placed over his eyes.

“What’s this?!” He shrieked. “Are you going to kill me?!”

The man didn’t answer and instead heard the soft sounds of piano keys playing and soft singing from somewhere in the corner. He wanted to pull the blindfold off but the soothing voice stopped him from doing so. By the time he realized it, he was swaying along with this wonderful voice and even clapped when he had finished. However, the song was only meant to be sung for people who were born on this day.

“Hmm?” He hummed curiously, “Whose birthday?”

His questioned wasn’t answered, however, his blindfold was taken off. Even if it was so bright outside, the kitchen was so dim that the only light source was coming from the candles on a small cake. It was white all over but was sprinkled with purple and yellow glitter all over the top. the colors gave off a nostalgic feeling somehow, and he didn’t know why he felt that way about someone else’s birthday cake. On a small white box, laying on top of icing and strawberries, was the name ‘Matsumoto Jun’ and a ‘Happy Birthday’ written at the bottom.

“What do you think?” The man grinned as he took the empty seat besides him.

He shrugged. “Well who’s it for?”

“You,” the man told him, “I baked it for you last night when you were sleeping and spent the rest, after, learning how to play a happy birthday song perfectly in my own chords.”

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow, “But it’s not my birthday.”

“That,” the man grinned before standing up, “I will prove it.” With that said, the man left him to another room and came back with paper in his hand. This very same paper was then shoved onto his lap and he read it all before looking at the man confused and dumbfounded.

“You’re Matsumoto Jun,” The man told him, “It says so in your birth certificate.”

“How do I know it’s really me?”

“Ugh,” the man rolled his eyes before taking the paper from him, “It doesn’t matter, but just to let you know, you’re 25 starting today!”

“Woah,” He stopped him, “25? I don’t even remember being 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 1--”

“Ok, I get it!” The man whined so childishly, his mouth forming a slight pout. “But if you don’t care then this was all a waste. I’ll just throw it away then.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t care,” He told the man as he grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down the chair. “Matsumoto Jun or not, my birthday or not... just hand me a plate and fork. I’ll eat it.”

Even if he was this Matsumoto Jun, or the fact that this Matsumoto Jun was born on August 30, the cake looked very promising ever since he laid eyes on it. It’s just that he really wasn’t sure if he should trust this stranger, or even call the police on him, but somehow, he found himself sitting patiently on the dining chair like an obedient child. At the same time he heard his stomach growl so loudly that it echoed in the kitchen, the man finally sat down with two small plates and two forks on either side.

“J,” the person whispered, “You want to cut the cake?”

He willingly nodded his head, surprising himself as he took the knife and cut it in the middle. For some unknown reasons, he felt happy just being like this and he really couldn’t explain it no matter what. While he cut the cake into long rectangles, he looked under his arm and saw that the man was staring at him with bright eyes and a huge toothy grin on his face. He can tell he was so happy when he was like this, and immediately his feelings of happiness increased just by looking at him. When the cake was finally cut into pieces, he settled back into the back of the chair, and sat there waiting for something to happen.

“Do you want the first piece?” The man finally spoke up, “I’ll give you it...”

“No,” he grabbed his wrist and pulled them away from the cake. Taking the knife, he shifted it to the side, grabbed a piece of cake and placed it so nicely on the middle of the man’s small plate. Satisfied, he took one for himself too before placing the knife somewhere as far away from them on the table.

“Isn’t birthday boy supposed to get first serving?” The man asked him in confusion.

He nodded his head. “That may be the case, but because you spent your night on someone like me, you deserve it.”

“J...”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, “And can I call you Nino?”

“S-sure...”

“Well let’s eat!” He declared as he took his fork and stabbed it into the cake.

It felt so nice in his mouth, the way it immediately melted as if it were ice and the sweet flavor it gave off was enough to top it off. It was so good that he kept shoving cake in his mouth, and swallowing it like there was no yesterday. There was no doubt about it that this cake was far by the best cake he had ever tasted, mind the fact that it was the first cake he ate, and was glad that Nino had made it with his hands. Out of impulse, he grabbed Nino’s hand until he could see what godly hands made this cake. It was long, yet stubby, it was thick, yet it felt so soft against his hand. Grinning so happily to himself, he brought the hand down, refusing to let go and was about to get another serving when he saw Nino staring at him wide-eyed.