"The memories of your former life are hindering you."

His eyes turned wide with fear. "No. No, Krad—"

"It's a simple thing to remove. A trifling obstacle, Satoshi. Very unimportant."

He was starting already. Satoshi realized it and pressed frantically against the magic with his will.

"Hmmph. Satoshi, you are really inexperienced, you know." Satoshi looked up suddenly, realizing too late what had happened. He had thrown himself into the trap.

"No—" His voice wavered and stopped as the will he had pushed so forcefully against his fate was broken off. Taken. He felt himself fall. A feverish weakness settled over him. Everything was suddenly very far away.

"Hmm-hmm…Satoshi. I think things will be much more interesting when you forget."

Satoshi felt something hot against his forehead. He was too weak to move. He felt his body temperature surge until he shivered in the prickling heat. Fever rose up in him, consuming his body in helpless aching, obscuring his vision, making colors vivid, vibrant, white. The world rolled. Subsided. He forgot which way was sleep. He lingered in uncertainty.

A cold feeling on his forehead. Vision returning. Light. Ache becoming evident. A voice—face. The press of longing for sleep.

"You are sick, Satoshi. You should rest for a while. Go back to sleep."

A fever. Nightmares. Dreams. Soothing fingers. Long stretch of white. Caught in time. Visions. Sounds. Sighs. A lullaby.

Memory.