Memory loss is not something you expect. People don’t realize how hard it is to deal with until it happens to them or someone close to them. I don’t really blame them, since humans have a habit of not comprehending things they haven‘t personally experienced. Either way, it’s not easy to deal with once it happens.

I can sum up all my memories in a sentence: Everything I’ve seen in the last day. Not much, is it? But then again, I don’t really know what a ‘not much’ is, and I don’t know what it’s opposite would be either. I just know how to use the term ‘not much.’

Luckily, I do know how to speak in coherent sentences. At least, I think they’re ‘coherent.’ I used to know what a lot of these things meant (I think), but I don’t anymore.

Allow me to explain my situation as best as I can. I woke up in what was called an ‘alley.’ The reason I was there? Wouldn’t know. The reason I woke up? I was thrown into a trashcan. Trust me when I say that it hurt. A lot.

Since then, I’ve been wandering around this place- what did that person call it again, a village?- quite aimlessly, trying to remember my name, at the very least. It seemed that I cannot remember a thing, besides how to read and speak.

So here I was, sitting on a wooden dock over the water, watching the sun set. It was quiet here. The houses nearest to this small lake seemed to be abandoned. I think I like the quiet. Back in the middle of the village, people kept looking at me oddly. I had kept glancing down at myself to see if there was anything particularly strange, but I seemed ‘normal’ to me… Curious now, I peered over the edge of the dock at my reflection.

Ah-hah! That’s why I got funny looks! I seemed to have ears that were different from theirs. I don’t really know how to describe them… Oh, I know! They look a bit like the ears on a cat! I wonder why that would be weird? Oh well, I can figure that out later, I suppose.

It seemed that my hair was a bit out-of-place as well. It was kind of messy, and was a really pretty (in my opinion, anyways…) silver color. It went down to my mid-back. My face was very, well, feminine, I suppose. My eyes were cat-like, and a bright light blue.

To summarize, I just looked plain weird, but in a relatively pretty way.

“Oi, who are you? What are you doing here?” A voice startled me out of my observations.

“M-me?” I said as I spun around.

“Yes, you. Now answer me, Who are you and why are you here?” The speaker was a little boy who appeared to be about twelve years old. He had dark black hair and onyx eyes, with pale skin. His clothes were but a simple black tee shirt with an wide neckline, white shorts, and a pair of blue sandals. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring at me with an air of indifference. I had learned that I could read people’s eyes rather well, and I realized that he was actually suspicious of my motives. His eyes also seemed to hold pain that was mixed with anger and betrayal.

Dang, if he was my age, I would totally want to date him.

…Where the heck did that come from?! I must be at least fifteen! That is just plain wrong… I must’ve been a complete weirdo before I lost my memory…

Resisting the urge to hit myself, I said, “Good questions, but I don’t really know the answer to either of them. I woke up, wandered around some, and ended up here.”

He looked skeptical. Not that I could blame him, really. My answer seemed way too vague, even to me, and I was the one who said it.

“Well then,” I said after a long moment. “I’ll just be going now. Sorry to trouble you.” Then I quickly stood up and walked past him. I could feel his gaze on me as I passed him. It was unnerving.

It turns out that the smell came from a ramen stand called Ichiraku Ramen. I wasn’t sure why I had bothered to come here, because I didn’t have any money to buy ramen with; I was broke. I wondered if the person who threw me into the trashcan earlier had anything to do with that…

I was about to turn around and walk away when some guy knocked me down. He looked down at me, and it was painfully obvious that the man was drunk. His eyes were bloodshot, he kept swaying on his feet, and he even held a bottle of sake in his hand.

“Hheyy, gihirly, watcha think you doin, gettin in mah way like that?! Youu could’ve rheallllyy hurt mmme!” he slurred.

“U-um, s-sorry sir! I didn’t see you there!” I responded, slowly getting up. I was hoping to not anger him more than he already was. Unfortunately, that didn’t work so well.

“Feh, dummb kid. Ahhm ah ninjaaa, howdyou not notice ahh guyy as greeat as mhee?! Ghottaa be thhe stronghest in the whoole freeakin villge, an yous don’t noticce mehh?” He then proceeded to throw his sake bottle at me.

I quickly raised my hands to shield my face (note to self, I have apparently have claws instead of fingernails). When the sake bottle hit, I felt it shatter, and the sake that was inside splattered onto my arms and face. My hands really hurt now, and upon lowering them, I noticed that they were cut up and bleeding. How nice.

“What the heck was that for, mister?!” I half yelled at him, but he didn’t seem to hear me.

“Hhey, lhiitle shnot, whydyou hhafta go and break mhyy sake bottle?!” For the first time, he seemed to actually register that I looked really weird. “Whaat the hhell? Y-you look lhike a… D-demon… Demon! S-stay away from me!” Then he ran off.

“…Weirdo…” I muttered. Standing fully, I glanced around. The many people who had been watching the display now stared at me in mingled hatred and fear. Since I could hear quite well with the cat ears, I listened to their whispered conversations.

“A demon? She certainly looks like one…”

“Should we really believe a drunkard?”

“We don’t need another demon in this village.”

“What if it hurts my children?!”

“It’s a health hazard! What if it kills us all?!”

“We should kill it, before it can kill us!”

“Wait! What if it hears you?”

“Look! It’s been listening the whole time! Quickly everyone, trap it!”

Before I realized what was happening, I had been thrown to the ground again by several men. They held my arms, legs, and tail (I didn’t even notice I had one) down, while a few others held rocks. One was holding a knife.

“Hey! What are you doing to me?! Let me go!” I protested.

“No way, demon. You’re going to die now, before you can call your demon friend to help you,” said the one with the knife.

“W-wait, what?! I’m not a demon! Stop! Let me go! Help, please! Stop! No! No no no no nononononono!! NO!” I screamed desperately as the knife plunged towards my chest.