Disclaimer:Nope, don't own Tekken.

Author's Note:Sorry this is so short. Too much Uni stuff. Happy Lars/Alisa Day! :)

FORGET ME NOT

He's very forgetful.

Once, he forgot who he was. It lasted for a long time - but he knows that it's in this period that he meets her for the first time and gets to know her.

Lars struggles to piece together the rest of his life, even with her around. He might remember a face, but not a name. A laugh, but not why. People would smile at him, and yet he did not understand why. The world seemed so dark, yet he finds friendly people. Others approach and say they're so thankful to see him alive - is he supposed to be dead?

He is given an SUV, an army, and a prayer, and yet he doesn't understand. What makes him so special?

He asks her to search him again in her database. There is nothing. He repeats his request with a low voice, and she apologises and reiterates that she can locate nothing. Lars sighs and continues to drive to nowhere - a destination? Somewhere, then.

Alisa smiles at him and reaches out to pat his shoulder as gently as possible. He turns to her, cobalt eyes watching her lips move as she speaks optimistically, "Do not worry, Lars! I am sure that your memory banks will be online again, and then you will remember everything!"

He smiles a little at her enthusiasm. At least he knows that he won't forget her.

There are nights where he wakes because of something horrible, something unspeakable, but he cannot grasp what. And every time, Alisa tucks some of her pink hair behind her ear before clasping Lars' hands in comfort, "You were having a nightmare, so I chose to wake you. I hope you don't mind!"

He says nothing and instead finds that he is gripping her hand tightly. He may not remember, but his subconscious certainly does, "How long do you think it will take?"

Alisa tilts her head for a moment before settling beside him, tracing her fingers around his, "I am unsure. It is highly unusual for long-term memories to be affected, because they have been imprinted on one's conscious. Yet you have lost it for the short-term too, it seems..." she looks to him again and finds that he's already gone back to sleep, just as quickly as he woke, "I hope you will remember one day, and that when you do, you'll not forget me."

And when he does, it's almost as though rage controls him merely at the sight of the man who should've been there for him from the very beginning. It's almost as though rage is the one that wears his teeth down. It's almost as though rage lifts his arm and points the handgun at his own Father and coaxes him to pull the trigger. And rage whispers and tells him that he deserves it.

He would've if Alisa weren't standing in the way.

it takes quite a while before events shift and he's out of the Mishima's home and holed up in some hotel in the nearest town. It takes even longer for his memories to flood back right down to the smallest detail. Smells, feelings, taste...

He remembers when he was a small boy in a small town in Sweden, being pushed on a swing by his Mother. She laughs and comments on how high he's swinging, and he asks to go even higher, to conquer the sky. She encourages him to reach for it, for there are no limits. Then in a flash, he remembers attending her funeral on a dark, gloomy, muggy day and being pushed away to horrid Aunts until he chooses to ask about his Father.

"Some good-for-nothing Japanese prat," one says, painting her nails.

"Rich prat," the other adds, waving around a hairbrush, "With his own company!" and her sister glares.

And he's going to Japan then, never to look back for nothing remains.

He remembers finding a lead on a name, and a company to match. He remembers the dizziness that ensued when he found a picture, and then him wondering why he never called. He remembers applying for the man's personal military to get close to him, and he remembers befriending Tougou and many others. He remembers the training. He remembers the early hours and the long nights, and when the company is passed over to another, younger man. And he remembers he's unhappy - the last wisps of a smile remained with his wonderful Mother.

At least, until he meets Alisa.

He watches her watch the television, transfixed with the overly dark, flickering images of the war and conflict between his half-brother and his nephew - how could he forget the war and his campaign against it?

"Have you forgotten me?" she sounds solemnly.

He reaches for her and holds her as tightly as he can muster. He could never forget.

But she would.

She would forget her smile and glare at him as though he is the bane of her existence. She would forget his tender caresses and questions about the past, which she couldn't remember either. She would forget how she made him feel at peace. She would forget that they are on a mission to stop someone from ruining the world. She would forget that despite the way she is designed, she'd never hurt a thing without reason.

And they fight and fight and fight, because Jin sees into his heart and thrives off his torment.

Alisa remembers again as she begins to fail, break, crumble. Beneath the heat of the unforgiving sun, she smiles up at him and thanks him for treating her like an equal - like a human. She remembers how to smile. She remembers everything, and he feels like he's going to choke on a happy sob. She reaches, he reaches; and she shuts down.

He mercilessly beats down Jin and then, with Raven, they take her away.

He knows that the way his heart refuses to leave his throat, even as he takes her to Lee to be repaired, will be cemented in his mind for however long he stays on this Earth. He doesn't forget the relief when Lee affirms she can be repaired, and then the plummet when he can't say how long it will take. And he doesn't forget the way her skin feels against his lips as he tells her that he will be back, and that when she's better, he will take her to dinner.

He will wait, and he will not forget.