"That's...good..." Eld couldn't really tell as traveling through Purgatory had taken a lot out of him. Besides, his spiritual sense had never been terribly finely honed. He could instinctively tell where dead were as well as other spiritual anomalies, but while in theory he could detect the spirits of normal humans (and he supposed Memories as well), in practice it was rather difficult for him.

There was a change in Eld then; old instincts not yet forgotten took over. "Hey, is there anything I can do for you? I was studying medicine until recently, so I might be able to help." All thoughts of battle and enemies were temporarily eroded by the ingrained habit of looking after someone who appeared to be ill.

Though admittedly, his medical experience only really applied under the assumption that Memories were functionally the same as humans. It appeared to be the case, but who knew if they even got the same illnesses that humans did.

Kyla turned her attention back to Eld. "Huh?"

It was only after that she gave it much thought. That's right, Eld said he lived at a clinic. She almost forgot that detail. It felt like so long ago . . .

"I-- I don't know," she admitted hesitantly, "I've just been feeling weak recently. Coughing if I get too worked up, f-- fainting if I do too much . . ."

More or less, she'd been most afraid of worrying Hugh. Seeings how he wasn't here right now, she was willing to talk about it. Were he here, though, she wouldn't have said a thing, and been much better at containing it.

"I . . . I don't really know what's wrong. I've just been trying to rest and drink a lot of fluids, I guess. That's what I've heard you're supposed to do."

"Are there any other symptoms? And how long has this been going on?"

The main thing was to establish if she'd just picked up some kind of virus that her body would fight off, or if she'd developed a chronic condition of some kind. His biggest worry would be that she'd mention her chest hurting; that would likely point to some kind of lung condition and those were pretty difficult to treat. She'd have to see a real doctor in that case.

Again, part of the problem was he wasn't sure if Memory bodies functioned the same way humans did. They certainly looked the same, but that didn't mean everything about them would be. Plus, the Unreal City was something of an isolated environment to say the least, so even if their bodies functioned similar they could have viruses here that weren't in the real world--

Father would have a field day with this, he thought dryly. Isolated environment, unusual people that may or may not be totally human functionally...all kinds of unusual conditions for him work with.

Eld may have been training to be a doctor, and might well have been the only medically trained person in the city, but that didn't make this conversation any easier. Kyla felt uncomfortable talking about this. Maybe it was fear. That was probably it. She must have been afraid that he'd tell Hugh about this. Kyla decided to ask Eld to keep this all a secret before Hugh showed up.

Kyla averted her eyes. ". . . and forgetting, too. I . . . I guess."

That was the worst part about it. She'd have never wished that symptom on anyone else. Forgetting. It was like letting a person die.

"I don't really know. A couple of weeks, I think," Kyla guessed vaguely, then paused as she thought about something she was missing, only to add: "Your time."

"Forgetting?" Well, that changed things. Fainting and shortness of breath could of pointed to anything from a virus to a lung issue, but forgetting could have meant it was a mental issue instead. Or both. But he'd need her to be more specific.

"What kind of things do you forget? And for how long?" he asked. There was a large difference if she meant she was being more absentminded than if she was, say, forgetting where or who she was.

As he was taking a more observant and active role, he also finally realized he wasn't wearing a shirt, just a whole bunch of bandages. He reminded himself to ask for his shirt back before he left.

"Everything?" she intoned with a frown.

"I've . . . I've forgotten places, names, people . . ." Kyla sighed, "It's just gone. Just like that. Like it was never there to begin with. I forgot my best friend's name. I can't even remember what she looked like. Or how she sounded like. I know she died, and I know how she died, but I can't remember anything else about her. I can't remember any of her family's names anymore, either. I don't even know what kind of mark they've left on me. There's . . . there's blank spaces in my heart, it feels like. I know there used to be something there, but it's gone now. And then--"

Kyla took a deep breath. She looked like she was ready to cry, tearing up a little just thinking about all of this. If nothing else, it would probably be pretty clear to Eld that she didn't talk about this too often.

"Hugh's name, too. I've forgotten it before. And sometimes, when I hear it again, I forget it soon after again," she regretfully admitted, "It feels like nothing's right up there. Like everything's falling apart faster than I can put it back together."

Eld pondered all this for a few minutes. The answer was both simple and not, because while all the symptoms pointed to something pretty clearly, it was also pretty clear that it couldn't be the case with Kyla.

"Well...it sounds like the kind of things that happen with old age. But that's obviously not the case. There are conditions that can cause advanced aging early but you don't have any other symptoms that would point to that." From what he could recall cases like that tended to cause appearance to age too, which she didn't display any signs of.

"S-Sorry...I'm kind of at a loss," he said at last. "You should probably see a real doctor." He hesitated before adding anything further, but his conscience demanded he continue, especially given how she'd treated him. "If...if there aren't any here you can see, come to my parents' clinic if you can without...bringing trouble. They're both very good doctors, I'm sure they could help."

Even if it was a condition specific to Memories, it was possible they could figure out something about it.

"Old age, huh?" Kyla frowned.

The way she stared at the floor and shifted from a frown to a sad smile may have told Eld enough: he'd effectively proven to her what was wrong.

"Reaper?" She asked, having already lost Eld's name, "can you ... not tell Hugh? About all of this. What's wrong with me and everything. Please?"

Maybe it was counter productive, but Kyla didn't care. Hugh had to know if she was going to go anywhere to get help, but there was a silent acknowledgment there that she couldn't get help, anyways. That this was terminal and she had no hope.

"I don't want to worry him."

"...I may not be a doctor, but I'm not about to break confidentiality with someone anyway," Eld replied at length. "That said...I really think you should tell him. I've seen people go through similar experiences, and believe me, it's easier when you have someone you love who can support you. He's going to worry about you no matter what you do anyway." That last part came less from his experience as a doctor, though.

He didn't ask about her other reaction; she seemed to have an idea of what was going on, and as he wasn't a doctor it wasn't his place to pry. All he could do was hope that it wasn't as serious as her reaction suggested it was.

Before they dropped the subject entirely, though, there was something he wanted to say. "...And...about something you said earlier. I think...I think that even if you forget people, even people important to you, it's not the end. If they've touched your heart, their impact on you will remain, even if they're gone from your mind." Had he thought about it, he wouldn't be able to come up how he came to that conclusion; it was simply a belief that was as much a part of him now as any other.

Something Eld said struck Kyla more than anything else he'd said in this meeting. Whatever justification she felt for breaking a vase over his head bled away. There was little left, only enough to keep her from apologizing. Except now she really did want to apologize for hurting Eld. Now, some of the things Hugh said made a little more sense. They . . . they were so alike, it seemed. It almost made Kyla want to meet Etsu. See if she and her would ever get along.

Wouldn't that be nice? An opportunity to sit and talk and not fight?

Sad as it was, it wasn't an option. For all intents and purposes, Eldridge Tsukimono was an enemy of Memoria. Kyla now just had one question left for him, one she felt to be the most important question she could ever ask him. The ultimate judgment of his character, not as an enemy or a friend, but as a man.

"I-is . . . is she still somewhere in your heart?" Kyla asked with a small smile across her lips.

She didn't understand it then, but an afterthought struck her and she realized exactly why she was able to smile: for some reason, she felt hope.

Kyla wasn't talking about Etsu, though. She meant someone very specific. Someone forgotten in Eld's heart. A name that didn't exist anymore, except in the heavier parts of a boy's heart.

"Yes." Kyla would find no deception on Eld's face; his answer was as sincere as it was automatic.

It was only a moment before confusion spread over him. "W-Wait, who do you mean?" He'd been so certain of the answer it momentarily escaped him that he didn't exactly understand the question. Frowning in thought, he wracked his brain, trying to figure out what just happened.

He stood up, pacing about a bit so that blood might flow to his brain a bit easier. Maybe it was just a matter of the blow to the head affecting his thinking. (That it wouldn't be his first concussion recently was really kind of troublesome when he thought about it.)

As he walked Kyla might notice something that she had likely overlooked earlier in her panic: seemingly unbeknownst even to Eld, something thin and metal was barely visible in his pocket.

It was the top a single metal, folded fan.

Eld's immediate response told Kyla more than enough. She felt an unfamiliar anxiety. It began building by the second as soon as she saw top of a familiar fan in Eld's pocket.

"I . . . I see," Kyla trailed off.

She smiled. It was bittersweet. A reminder that her best friend was gone, but also a reminder that she was still alive somewhere. That something of her remained. It . . . it was almost happy. Confusing, perhaps, but almost happy nonetheless. They sought so much to be something. Anything. Real on any level would have done for most of them. To have touched someone's heart permanently, never to be truly forgotten by that person, might as well have been an unreachable dream.

"I . . . I'm almost envious," Kyla whispered, "I-- I mean-- you're still . . . you're still carrying her around with you. I-- I wish there'd be someone would do that for Hugh and I, wh-when we're gone . . ."

"H-Huh...? I...unnhhh..." As he tried to process just what it was Kyla was referring to, he only succeeded in getting a headache. He sat back down on the couch, for the moment deciding not to worry about it. Perhaps if he found that Emil person Recheov spoke of it would clear things up.

He focused on the other thing Kyla said instead. "For what it's worth...you've both treated me with respect and kindness, in spite of all this. It's something I'd like to carry with me, to remind me not to be so quick to label others as 'enemies.'"

It was all too easy for him to do so, too, especially since he discovered just what the source of his power was. The Memories were not the first to seek him out, and he suspected that they wouldn't be the last. But Kyla and Hugh made him hope that not everyone who sought him did so to kill him or abuse his strength. He hoped someday that the people who came for him would see his power as something that can protect, not just as something that can destroy.

"It's . . ." Kyla trailed off.

She smiled some. Would he carry them in his heart, too? For extending kindness to him when no one else would? When, by all points, they shouldn't have? Maybe. It . . . would be nice.

". . . thank you," she replied with a weak nod.

It was at that point, though, that the sound of a creaking door filled the living room. Hugh pushed the door open, one hand in his pocket, the other on the doorknob. He stepped in, shut the door behind him, and sighed, visibly not minding Eld in his house. Chances were, he was just content that Kyla was okay. Though, Eld's shirtlessness was weird and something he might consider asking about later.

"H-Hugh," Kyla turned around, "You're home!"

"Mnn," Hugh nodded his head, noticeably exasperated.

Everything else on Eld's mind immediately fled to the far corners of his consciousness when Hugh returned. "What did he say?" Eld asked immediately, only just managing to keep himself from interrupting Kyla's greeting.

His anxiety was palpable; every muscle in him was tensed in anticipation, as though he'd leap to his feet and rush out the door depending on the answer. Which could very well have been the case, though he'd want to get his shirt back first if he could. It was understandable; Hugh's answer would determine if he could leave and go save the girl he loved immediately or whether he had more battles ahead of him.

He was also worried Illorex would come after him; Kyla and Hugh seemed convinced he was just following orders, but the other day he'd gotten the distinct impression he held a grudge against him. He couldn't discount him coming to ambush him here.