OOC - First memory - Sight/Touch
It was just a walk. Okay, maybe it was partly a jog too. It was mostly a walk, though, and that was what counted when he no doubt got asked later what he’d done during the day. Except mostly had to be over half, and he was mostly jogging. As Youth tried to rationalize exercise, he caught sight of something glimmering up ahead, in one of the branches.
Curious, he walked toward it. Coming closer, he recognized it for what it was, thanks to getting Moon’s - a memory crystal. That meant… a memory. Why was it just hanging there? Was it a trick? It probably was. Youth looked to the left. No ghouls, no apples. Youth looked to the right. No ghouls, no apples.
“Hmm. Hmmmmmmmmm.” He rubbed his chin. It hung like an apple. It was called an apple. Slowly Youth circled the sparkling crystal, eyeing it. This was a very Not Safe thing. But if it was his memory… If he could find out more… Youth reached up, almost touching it, and drew his hand back down. No. He needed to be smart. To blunder in would be a mistake. He looked around again; nothing seemed out of place. Stepping just under it, Youth looked up, viewing it from another angle.
That was when it fell, smacking him in the face-
--and he was moving. Moving fast. Grey and orange and green blurred together as thousands of hot tiny needles struck him… no, not needles. Sand. Thousands of grains of sand. His right hand stretched out from his side, palm-up. There was a burst of power, something, and he sent the sand flying away. It was from him, the burst. He could feel the power emnating, somehow.
Standing, still holding his hand out, he was facing a red-headed boy. The boy’s face was covered in small cracks, and his eyes were wide in shock. They were in a grey stadium of sorts, with ledges to both sides and a stage and screen in front of them. He was wearing a vest, a heavy vest, but it wasn't in the way. Sand coated the broken cement ground. Youth stared at the crouching boy, whose mouth moved. Youth heard nothing. Distantly, though, emotions welled. Determination, dedication, love? They were far away. He couldn’t be sure.
The boy stood, and the sand gathered up into the shape of a gourd on its own, flowing upward to be strapped to the boy’s back. He walked off, and Youth’s gaze followed him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw more people, standing up on one ledge. There, at the edge of his vision, was something white and poofy. But before he could look, his attention was grabbed by the other man on the ground, someone he hadn’t noticed before. The man wore some sort of headband with a swirl that meant something, and was staring over Youth’s shoulder. Now the boy had stopped. He turned, also looking behind Youth.
A drop of sweat slid down Youth’s face as he began to turn only to see… himself? No. Not himself. There were enough differences between the boy and himself to know that it wasn’t him. The eyes were shaped differently, the brows a different type of bushy. The boy was dressed in green spandex, though, with bright orange legwarmers. A red belt had the same insignia as the other man’s headband and the boy was dripping blood. Youth was concerned, far away. As the boy shook with half-closed eyes, Youth walked over, placing hands on one shoulder and one side. He gazed down at the boy, his mouth moving soundlessly. There was red around Youth's waist as well, with the same swirly insignia.
Again with the swea-Except it wasn't. He was crying. Those were tears running down his cheeks, blurring his vision. Manly tears, of course, but tears nonetheless. Blurred, in the corner of his vision, the figure with white moved something on his face. It shined. Metal. Maybe it was the same as the headbands and belt, but Youth was too busy crying to look. He reached to embrace the boy, his arms circling the injured child and Youth leaned into the hug-
--only to have the boy disappear as he fell forward, hard, landing on the ground in Edensphere. He tried not to, but he groaned nonetheless as he pushed himself up. Not only was his starting-to-heal rib protesting the fall and getting up, his head felt strangely heavy. Had he hit it? That was the last thing he needed. He would be tied to the bed again, allowed up only for... His gaze fell on his sleeves and his eyes widened in horror. Instead of his precious green spandex there were red and blue ruffles on white sleeves.
And it was a dress.
A ruffled, multicolored dress. He didn't think he wanted to know why his head felt so heavy after all.
He hated apples. With a passion.
[[ooc: Memory drawn from Naruto Episode 50. As punishment, Youth will be wearing this outfit for five days. Complete with sparkly apple.]]
