oOo

There it is again, that look on your face. The look that says you are sad and a little frustrated, maybe even angry, but trying not to show it. You think I wouldn't notice, but that's where you're wrong. I see it every time you think I'm not looking.

I ask you what's wrong; but you just shake your head and lower your eyes to the book that's in your hands. This is the first time you're sitting here with me like this; it's usually a tall woman with red hair or the golden haired man. Sometimes two tall men, one with brown hair and the other with black, come too. Somehow, I feel glad that you're here today.

Absently, I try to catch a glimpse of what you're reading. The title is rather long and written in English. I can only barely make out a word – para … parapsychology? Parapsychology, I think that's it. All the while I think that you must be a very clever person and I secretly admire your intellect from where I sit.

You are absorbed in the book, so I turn my eyes back to the open window, to where the blue sky and white clouds are. A solitary bird flies towards the horizon, disappearing behind a tall building.

I can hear the soft rustling of paper when you turn a page and a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I turn my gaze back to you. I wonder to myself, when will you finish the book?

You look up all of a sudden, and your eyes meet mine. My cheeks feel warm and I suddenly find myself feeling shy around you. Something tells me that it is wrong for me to stare at you like that.

Now, it's your turn to ask me what's wrong. I simply smile and shake my head. You look very familiar, I must have seen you somewhere before this; I say softly, my eyes focused on the small hole on the blanket covering my legs.

You are curious, I can feel it, yet you don't say a word. There is also hope, but it's very faint. What are you hoping for?

It is a long while before you speak again. Do you, you ask me, do you know who am I? Your voice, so soft and hopeful, brings me out of my thoughts. I turn to look at you, only to find you staring straight at me. Something tells me that I should feel unnerved by your stare, yet I am not.

I must have taken too long to answer, so you repeat your question a little more insistently. I get the feeling that you don't usually repeat your questions.

I open my mouth but no words come out. My mind has gone blank all of a sudden. Do I know you? Yes, yes I do. I know who you are, I saw you in my dreams just the night before. You held my hand and smiled at me, assuring me that everything will be alright. Or was it someone else that I saw? A part of me thinks it was you, but another part of me says no.

I try again; try to recall the answer to your question. Do I know you? Yes, I know you. I know what's your …

Your name. I grip the blanket tightly in my hands. Your name. What is your name? The more I try to recall your name, the thicker the haze in my mind becomes. Fear grips me and my mouth goes dry. A thin sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead.

I cannot remember your name.

I must have panicked, because in an instant, you are beside me. You place an arm around my shoulder and draw me close while another hand rub soothing circles on my back. It's okay, you say, it's okay, Mai.

Mai. Yes, my name is Mai; the red haired woman told me a few days ago. What is your name? Why can't I remember your name?

With my head against your chest, I can hear your heart thumping rhythmically in my ear. I find myself thinking how nice and warm it is to be in your arms.

Before I know it, I blurt out, the last time you held me like this feels like so long ago.

Your immediately hold me at arm's length, keen eyes searching my face.

You remembered? you ask, a slight hint of desperation leaking out in your voice.

I look up at you in confusion as I ask, remember what?

You hesitate for a moment, before saying quietly, remember me, remember … us.

Us? What –

You cut me off with a shake of your head. It's okay if you don't remember anything now, take your time Mai. I will wait, you say gently.

Yet your voice is tinged with sadness when you say that.

It makes me want to cry.

oOo

A/N: This is by far the shortest oneshot I've ever written. It's just to get a few recurring thoughts out of my mind so I can concentrate on other more important things such as finals. Anyway, enjoy.