(A/N): Well, we've come to the end of this story, and we've come quite late, which is no fault but my own. I apologise for the very, very long wait, and thank you so much for being patient.

It still seems bizarre to me that, over a year ago, I sat down after being struck with a sudden inspiration facing a major road block in a different piece of writing, and having written the first few chapters, decided to upload it to fanfiction, and that after some planning and some research, it grew into something this big! With 43 chapters, about 326 pages on Word and roughly 188,400 words (not including author's notes, of course!), this story is by far the longest I have ever written - so far. Though this is the last chapter of Amnesia, I am currently writing and planning a new story, a sequel, to this story. I'll have the first chapter up fairly soon, but I can't guarantee how fast I will be able to upload this one, for various reasons.

A while ago, I promised I would thank everyone who had reviewed on this story, and after some trawling through the review pages, I managed to make a list! Unfortunately a few reviews (quite a lot, actually) were anonymous and didn't make a particular identity, so I've just put 'anonymous' for those people.

So, here we go! (In the order of when they reviewed) Thank you to:
Agwen, Raven's Shadow, Anonymous, Wolfstadt, Ariana Taniyama, Anonymous, Anonymous, KawaiiWuv, Anonymous, Anonymous, NaginiFay, Guest, ANonymous, CatMaz, Anonymous, XxLonelyShadowSpiritxX, Anonymous, Caithlinn13, Guest, Anonymous, Anonymous, WhisperToTheWolves, Anonymous, Anonymous, Anonymous, Anonymous, Shadowcat2428, Anonymous, The Hero15, yui639, Anonymous, Guest, Anonymous, Anonymous, Lady Merp, Anonymous, Anonymous, Anonymous, myangelicaladyofdarkness, NightOfTheWriters, guestfrombefore, Anonymous, Anonymous, mweebles, Good Anonymous, EnvelopesandCypressTrees, (Good) Anonymous Wattpad User, Lizzy, 14AmyChan, Powerpuff, Ananas, RiddleMeThis, AlexFrost, DanceWithAGinger, morganallisan, AssailantAngel, erpastiche, westwindwaker, knobloch2618, tennison, Shizuka Kitsune, Guest, Maria Rianki, Carrie's Demise and Orangefur.

Once again, I'd like to say thank you so, so much for supporting this story. Thank you for helping me through difficult times, thank you for being so patient when I couldn't upload quickly, thank you for bearing with my long rambles in my author's notes, and thank you for following John's story right to the end, even though it took a long time to reach here.

Now, as for songs I'd recommend for this chapter, the only two that really came to mind were Where Is My Mind by Sunday Girl (not just the tune, but I thought it was a fitting title, considering this story was about John having amnesia and it was called 'Amnesia'!) and One Minute More by Moddi. If you don't like either of these songs, and you still want to listen to one, I would say that you should pick a soft song with a steadier beat and gentler instruments.

This chapter is relatively short, I must admit, but I hope it has achieved the effect I wanted.

Thank you so, so, so, so, so much for reading, favouriting, following and reviewing this story! Thank you to my wonderful sister/editor Wolfstadt! Thank you for being patient!

Until the next time, farewell!

Time passed. I can barely remember it.

All the trials, the police visits, the questions and witness testimonies…I recall very little of it. After a while, they all merged into each other.

Yasuhara, when he spoke to the press outside the abandoned house, told them about possible corruption within the police ranks, and the investigations into this are still continuing.

As for Yakunan Soku, the colleague…I hear his death caused quite an uproar among the higher police officers who wished to use him as a lead for R.M. Despite the anger, no one has punished Sinead for it, which I am very thankful for. I think it's because of the investigations into the police corruption; they're in enough trouble as it is to be admitting they were prepared to value a potential lead over the lives of those present at the house. And Sinead certainly does not regret her actions, whatever the repercussions.

Sinead has been helping me through all the trials where I've had to stand witness. I think the worst trial so far has been those against Saburou Osaki. When I had to recount my experience with the anechoic chamber, I could barely speak. I almost broke down again. It was only after the recess, when Houshou and Sinead had managed to calm me down, that I was able to testify.

But the trials are nowhere near over. Verdicts still need to be reached. Sentences still need to be passed. Again and again, I need to speak about what happened: my first interactions with Kazuki; Sayomi and her grandfather Itsuke Watanabe; my memories of Mattaku Psychiatric Ward; the terrifying hunt for my blood; everything right until my last confrontation with Yakunan Soku and his death. It was exhausting.

When it became clear that the colleague was dead, I think I might have felt some relief, but there's been a lot of pain, too, even now. It was a miracle that I didn't relapse, but some days, I almost fell back. Houshou, Sinead, all my friends helped me to pull through, but it wasn't always easy, and even with their help, there were some things I had to deal with by myself. I have vague memories of sinking into despair and grief some days, or being constantly scared and anxious. I think I went to therapy, and I've been gradually dealing with my anxiety, the PTSD and the nightmares, though I remember the days when I could barely function.

Have I gotten better? Maybe I'm not as…distressed as I used to be. Maybe the nightmares aren't as bad. Maybe I've been sleeping better. But mental scars take a lot longer to heal than physical scars. It will take time. Maybe they won't ever fade away.

But I'm still going to keep fighting. When it gets too tough, I have people who can support me, and I know that not everyone in a similar position to mine has this privilege, so I am grateful for the help I have received.

There's no way I'm going to stop moving. It's painful, unbearably painful at times. There seems to be some myth that there is something romantic about these scars, and I don't understand that at all. All I know is that I'm going to keep fighting. It's not easy, but I don't want to fall now. Not after everything I went through, everything I've lost and the people I've grieved over, the scars I've gained and the suffering that was inflicted onto myself and so many others.

I know I have weaknesses, I know that these scars might not go away. But I'm not going to let those feelings of fear and despair over come me. I need to keep going. I want to keep fighting. I will keep living.

Today, I am not going to court to give a witness testimony. Today, I am going back to the site of the Mattaku Psychiatric Ward.

I'm nervous. I won't deny it. As I get changed into black clothes, my hands shake. I won't see the actual building, I know, but just the thought of being near it makes me anxious.

"Hey." Houshou walks over to me – he is wearing black clothes, too. "You ok?"

"Y-Yeah." I'm attempting to button up the blouse that I am wearing, but half way up, my hands are shaking too much.

"Here." He helps me without scorn or mockery. Instead, he whispers into my ear, "I know it will be tough for you. And that's understandable. So, if it gets too tough, make sure to tell me or Sinead-san."

"O-Ok." In the past, I might have lied, covering up my fear with a passive smile, but this time, I mean what I say.

Sinead and Conor – both wearing black – take us to the SPR office. There, all the members have gathered, and all are wearing black. Though this is not unusual for Kazuya and Lin, who are always wearing black, it looks out of place on the others.

"Will there be much police presence?" I can hear Kazuya asking Sinead.

"No, only me and my group." She assures him.

As they discuss arrangements, I end up talking to Mai.

"Wow. It's weird. We all look like Naru-kun, huh?"

"Yeah. It's strange seeing you in black. You don't often wear it." I think she's trying to cheer me up.

"Well, at least the weather is nice." She gestures to the sun outside. "I'm glad it isn't raining."

"Yeah. Me too."

After some driving, we reach Shiroku. The citizens watch curiously as the cars drive in – it isn't just SPR who have turned up – but no one asks. They recognise the solemnity, and they keep their distance.

Slowly, we begin out walk from the village to the site. We all carry white chrysanthemum. It takes a long time, but no one complains.

Finally, we reach it: no at the site itself, but a clearing by the forest. Ayako mentioned she first called upon the tree spirits here. This time, a memorial has been constructed. It's a large, black slab made from polished stone, with the names of all those who lost their lives to Mattaku Psychiatric Ward etched upon the surface. It took a while to collect all the identities, but it was finally completed a week ago.

Carefully, we place the white chrysanthemum down by the stone. There is a lot, and soon it is almost shrouded by the delicate, simple flowers.

There is a moment of silence, before Father Toujou steps up to speak.

"…We are gathered here today in a time of grief," he begins, "to mourn the passing of a great many innocent lives."

Among those of us standing there, I can see Sinead's crew, all standing around the edge of the concession. Only Sinead remains next to me with Houshou. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

"At this place, many had their lives taken cruelly away from them. It is shocking and terrible that this tragedy happened."

I can see Mai, who already looks close to tears. Kazuya is standing next to her, and has placed his hand on her shoulder. Ayako looks to the stone memorial, although her gaze occasionally flicks to the trees and she nods slightly, as if thanking someone. Masako is watching Father Toujou and her face is sad, while Yasuhara, who is staring at the sheer mass of names on the memorial, looks angry as well. Lin's face is expressionless. He glances at me, and pats me on the shoulder.

"The multitude of people who lost their lives here is incomprehensible. But let us not anger at the offenders, for we will have many more occasions to for that. Let us grieve for those lost, and pray that they rest in peace.

I catch a glimpse of Amaya and Leiko, still shocked at the details they heard about the incident. At the edge of the gathering, I see Yamazaki, looking nervous about the group of people. Hayate, who has recovered from hospital, Rin and her brother Hiro are also present. I see some of the janitors from the hospital, including Masaru Sato.

"Now, I will read the names of the deceased:

"Ristuka Amane, Yoko Aizawa, Eric Blair, Vidar Bjelland…"

I swallow painfully to try and keep my grief in control. But of course, his name comes up early.

"Kazuki Brooks…"

I can't help it. I can feel the tears. They won't stop.

"…Dimitri Chekskov, Hélèn Cadieux, Kisa Chikasue, Berthold Daecher…"

I try to stop crying, but I can't.

"...Matthew Forcit, Ukita Fujimoto, Daniela Gavino, Valeriya Gerasimov, Thomas Goddard, Reiji Hamasaki, Claudia Howe..."

There are too many names on this list. Far too many.

"…Fumiki Kurozawa, Alessandra Lamberti, Afisa Lavrentyev, Jaques Lorraine…"

But there's no point holding it back. I feel Houshou's arm around me. These people shouldn't have had to die. They didn't deserve it.

"…Louisa Waechter, Sayomi Watanabe, Andrew Williams."

The list finally finishes, but I don't stop crying. One hundred and five people overall. It's too much. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm sorry.

The funeral passes. Gradually, the crowd dissipates as people leave. But I stay where I am, until it is only me, Houshou and Sinead left.

I tell them to go on ahead and, reluctantly, they leave. I sit in front of the stone.

I read the names.

"…I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm sorry no one helped you. But…"

I touch the stone. I trace my finger over all the names: over Kazuki's, over Sayomi's, over Ritsuka's, over Matthew's, over each and every inscription.

"I won't forget. I will never forget. I promise." I bow my head. "I will remember all of what happened, as long as I live. All of it."

I stand up. "Goodbye. I will always remember you."

I turn around and walk away.

The wind blows the white flowers and they sway, as if whispering, as the sun sets and the light fades over the clearing.

I will not forget. I will always remember.