Case 1: Neptune

At first, I only hear a sound.

...Beep.

...Beep.

...Beep.

It’s annoying. I want it to stop.

My body is... wrong. It’s heavy. Itchy. I’m wrapped in something tight.

My face is covered. My eyes... I can’t open them.

I'm blind.

Then the smell hits me next.

Bleach. Antiseptic.

I'm in some kind of hospital. This is a logical conclusion.

I try to search for a “before.” Anything that would make me understand, yet the room in my head is empty.

It’s just... black. Hollow.

This is a problem.

The 'beep' next to my head speeds up. 70. 80. 90.

It feels like that is my heart, and it’s going fast. Why?

Understanding…

I log the data and discard the emotion.

I force the “beep” to slow down. 85. 80. 75.

I am in control now.

Breathe. Analyse.

My body... it’s heavy. Like it's full of wet sand. My head aches. My arm hurts. My leg... I think my leg hurts, too.

I can hear other sounds now.

A soft hum.

And a chair... scraping on the floor.

There is someone else in this room.

A voice. Tenderly, “Nurse? I think... I think she's moving. Her fingers. Look.”

A second voice. Brisk this time, “She's just having a spasm, dear. It's normal for—”

I clench my hand.

It works. My body is responsive.

The first voice gasps.

The second voice makes a sound... I hear a metal tray clattering now.

“Oh my god,” the second voice says. “She is awake. Doctor's orders... if she wakes... I need to check.”

I feel a hand on my face. It's on the bandages. On my eyes.

“This is going to feel strange, dear,” the brisk voice says. “We've been keeping your eyes covered to prevent damage. I'm just going to loosen this...”

I feel the pressure change. The bandages over my eyes are being cut and peeled back.

I still keep them closed.

“Okay, dear. Can you... can you open your eyes for me?”

I obey the command.

The light is a white-hot pain.

I blink.

I blink again.

The world is a white, blurry... soup?

A shape is leaning over me. A blurry face, covered in a blue mask. The nurse.

“Can you... can you see me?”

My throat is dry. It hurts. I try to speak.

“Yes.” It comes out like a rasp.

The nurse jerks back.

“She's... I... I need to get Dr. Hirabayashi. Right now.” Her voice is too loud now. “Don't... don't move!”

I hear her footsteps running. I hear the door slam shut.

The room is quiet again.

No. Not quiet.

The 'beep' is fast. My beep. 95.

And... there's another sound.

A small, shaky breath.

I turn my head. The pain in my neck is sharp.

The first voice. The girl. She's still here.

My eyes are starting to focus.

She is a stranger.

Curly brown hair. Her eyes are... orange.

And she's staring at me.

Another anomaly.

I watch her, and my “beep” slows down. 90. 80. 75.

Why?

My body logs 'Safe.'

My mind logs 'Unknown.'

This is a contradiction.

The girl's face... changes. It's... smiling. Why?

“You finally woke up,” she whispers. Her voice is strange. Wet.

I just stare. She is a stranger to me yet she seems to know me.

I need data.

“Who are you?” My voice is still dry.

The word just... hangs in the air.

The girl's smile disappears.

Her face looks wrong now. Like it's crumbling.

“It's... it's me,” she whispers. “It's Elowen. Don't you remember?”

“Elowen.”

I test the name. I check the empty room in my head. Still empty.

Friend. I check for that, too. Nothing. It’s just a word.

“No,” I say. “I don’t remember.”

Her face breaks completely. A tear slides down her cheek.

“Why are you crying?” I ask. “Crying won’t fix this.”

My hand. It's moving again. On its own.

It's trying to lift from the blanket. It wants to reach for her.

Why?

I clench my fist and pull my arm back. I am in control.

The girl—Elowen—takes a shaky breath. She sinks into the chair.

“Do you... do you know who you are?” she asks. Her voice is too quiet.

This is better, I like a direct question.

I search the empty room again. I'm looking for a file, a name, a...

There.

One single fact, floating in the black.

“I'm... Neptune,” I say.

The name is right. But it's also...

Wrong.

I frown. This is the first data point that doesn't make sense.

“But... that's not right,” I say.

“It's a planet. A god.”

I look down at the thin hospital blanket. At the tube in my arm.

“Why did I choose that name? How...?”

I look back at her. The empty room in my head suddenly feels... cold.

Yet she is smiling, “Thank god… At least you know who you are…”

“Why am I here? What happened?”

Elowen leans forward. She is not crying anymore. She is stable.

“You're in a hospital,” she says, her voice soft. “You had an accident at school. You fell.”

“I fell?” I repeat.

I fell.

My hand goes to my head. The bandages are there.

“Is that why...” I look at her. “I can't remember?”

“Yes,” she says.

I fell. That's why I can't remember.

This is good data. I can work with this.

I look at her.

Her skin is pale. Her posture is slumped. She is... unstable.

“And... Elowen?” I test the name again.

“You're my friend?”

“Yes,” she says.

Her voice is still wet, but it's firm.

Stored. Elowen. Friend.

“Okay,” I say. “Then you need to tell me everything.”

But before Elowen could open her mouth…

The door bangs open, slamming hard against the wall stopper. It makes my head hurt.

A man in a white coat and a nurse in blue scrubs hurry inside. They look stressed. The man is holding a file, and he hasn't looked at me. He’s talking to the nurse.

“...and if the swelling hasn't gone down, we'll have to consider—”

He stops at the foot of my bed. He’s reading the file. He sighs.

“Ms. Ahlquist,” he says, his voice tired. “Let's see if we can get a response today...”

Ahlquist?

I search the empty room in my head.

“Neptune” is there. “Ahlquist” is not.

This is an error.

The doctor looks up from his file. His eyes meet mine.

He freezes.

The nurse sees him freeze and looks at me. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Doctor,” she whispers, “she's... her eyes are really opened.”

The doctor's face is a blank mask. He walks to my side.

“Ms. Ahlquist,” he says. His voice is different now. Sharp. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” My voice is a dry rasp.

He pulls a small light from his pocket. “I'm going to check your pupils. Keep looking at me.”

A bright, white light. I don't blink.

“Good,” he murmurs. He puts it away. “Ms. Ahlquist, do you know what day it is?”

I search the empty room. “No.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“A hospital.”

“Good. Do you know your name?”

This is the test.

The “Ahlquist” data is false.

I must correct him.

“My name is Neptune.”

The doctor and the nurse look at each other.

The nurse looks... scared. The doctor just looks... confused.

He pulls the chart from the end of the bed. He reads it again.

“The patient's name is Carena Ahlquist, right?” the doctor says, not to me, but to the nurse and Elowen.

They both nod.

“No,” I say. “My name is Neptune.”

Elowen makes a small, high-pitched sound from her chair. “She... she just woke up, Doctor. She's just confused.”

The doctor holds up a hand, silencing Elowen without looking at her. He looks back at me. His eyes are very sharp.

“Do you remember the name 'Carena Ahlquist'?”

I search the empty room. “Carena...”

An anomaly.

A sharp... something. A feeling.

Like... ash. And metal.

I flinch. The 'beep' next to my head speeds up. 90. 95.

“That name is... a problem,” I say. My head hurts.

The doctor's eyes get very wide.

“I see.” He writes something down on his file.

“And 'Neptune'?” he asks. “Where did you get that name?”

“It's just... there. It's my name.”

The doctor exhales. He looks at the nurse.

“Misaki, page neurology. And psych. Now.”

He turns back to me.

“You've sustained a serious injury,” he says. “You fell. It seems you have significant amnesia. Retrograde, and... something else.”

He seems bothered by this.

“We are going to run more tests. Because, in actuality, you shouldn't wake up for another two months.”

“Okay,” I say.

“But... for now...” He hesitates. He looks at his file. He looks at me.

“We will call you Neptune. If that helps.”

He doesn't look happy about it.

“Elowen,” he says, “you can stay. But do not... 'help' her. Do not feed her information. We need to see what she remembers on her own.”

He and the nurse leave, quieter this time.

The door clicks shut.

Elowen and I are alone again. She looks... terrified.

The room is quiet again.

The 'beep' of my heart monitor is the only sound. It’s still too fast. 85... 80... 75.

I force my breathing to slow down. I am in control yet again.

I look at Elowen.

She is still here, sitting in the visitor's chair. She's twisting her hands together.

“Why are you still here?”

She startles, looking up. “I... I wanted to wait with you. Until the doctor came back. I didn't want you to be alone.”

Her presence... it makes the 'beep' stay slow. 75. 74.

“Fine.”

I close my eyes. Not to sleep. To listen.

The door is thick, but the voices outside are not quiet. They are stressed. The wall is thin enough…

The doctor. The nurse.

“...I don't understand, Doctor,” the nurse, Misaki, is saying. Her voice is high. “Her chart... a GCS of 3T... the Diffuse Axonal Injury... she shouldn't be talking. She shouldn't even be awake.”

“I know the chart, Misaki. I wrote it,” the doctor, Hirabayashi, snaps back. His voice is low. Strained. Angry.

I analyse this. GCS. DAI. Acronyms for my damage. What is that?

They are discussing my body. They are surprised I am awake…

“But still... three weeks...” the nurse insists. “From that level of trauma... to this? It's... it's not possible. And the amnesia...”

“It's not just the amnesia,” the doctor cuts in. “It's the lack of other deficits. Her pupils are reactive. Her speech is clear. She's... lucid. The 'Carena Ahlquist' file shows a catastrophic, multi-system injury. The girl in that bed... she doesn't match the data.”

I am not “Carena Ahlquist.” His data is wrong yet again.

“Doctor...” the nurse's voice drops to a whisper. “What if it's not amnesia? What if…?”

“That is enough,” the doctor says, his voice sharp. “We are physicians, not mystics. She is a 14-year-old girl who has sustained a severe trauma and is presenting with a profound dissociative state and... an anomalous recovery. That is all. We will run the scans. We will test her. Now, go.”

I hear the nurse's fast footsteps walking away. The doctor stays. I hear him sigh.

My head hurts. The name “Carena” again.

The… Name…

That feeling... like ash. And rust.

The 'beep' goes up. 80.

“Neptune?”

Elowen's soft voice cuts through the noise in my head.

“Are you okay? You look... pale.”

I open my eyes and look at her.

“They are wrong,” I say. “My name is Neptune.”

Elowen just nods, her eyes full of that strange, wet sadness.

“Yes… I know that, Neptune.”

.

.

.

They have not run many tests.

It has been twenty-four hours.

I have spent most of that time in the hospital library.

The hospital library was full of soft books written for soft people. Health pamphlets. Simplified psychology.

Nothing that could explain why I am alive.

I needed something more.

Something that—

I started to doze off.

I haven't slept yet.

Sleep is a variable I am choosing to delay.

The risk is too high. I will sleep when I know it is safe.

Now, I am sitting in a small, white “consultation room.”

I can’t sleep. Not now. Not here.

Four other people are in this room.

The girl, Elowen, is not one of them.

The doctor, Hirabayashi, is here. He stands by a wall of x-rays, his arms crossed. He looks angry.

The other three are strangers.

A man and a woman sit next to me. They look expensive and tired.

The man is watching the doctor, his face calm and sympathetic.

The woman is watching the doctor, her face is sharp. She’s holding a leather briefcase on her lap.

A girl sits in the corner, away from everyone. She is staring at her own feet. She looks the same age as me but... broken.

“I must protest again, Maja-san,” Dr. Hirabayashi says. His voice is tight. “Releasing her is medically negligent. Her file shows catastrophic, multi-system trauma. Her GCS was 3T. She should not be lucid.”

“She should not be, but she is,” the woman, Maja, replies. Her voice is not loud, but it fills the room. It has... weight. “Doctor, you have had her for 24 hours. What do your new tests show?”

“That's the problem!” he snaps, slapping a file on the light-up board. “The tests are clean. The 12-hour surgery... the splenectomy... the comminuted fractures... the C2 fusion...” He points to an x-ray of a spine.

“There is no titanium. There are no fracture lines. There is no brain swelling.”

He looks at me, his eyes sharp. “She should not be healthy. This is an anomaly. I need to know why.”

The woman, Maja, leans forward.

“Dr. Hirabayashi,” she says, her voice calm and cutting,

“You are the Chief of Neurosurgery at one of the finest hospitals in Tokyo. Are you telling me you wish to hold my daughter, against my will as her legal guardian, because she is healthy?”

I analyse this.

“My daughter.”

“Legal guardian.”

This woman, Maja, is my mother.

This is new data.

The man next to her must be my father.

The broken girl in the corner... my sister?

Why don’t I look like them?

“I am telling you,” the doctor says, “that what happened to her body is a 'medical impossibility.' We have a duty to understand it.”

“You have a duty to treat illness,” Maja counters.

“You have run your tests. They show she is healthy. You cannot keep her here for 'curiosity.' That is a violation of her rights. She is not a lab specimen.”

The man next to her, my father, finally speaks.

“Toshiko-sensei,” he says, and the doctor's eyes meet his. They know each other.

“We are all... baffled by this. As a physician myself, I cannot explain it.” He gestures to me.

“But as her father, I cannot leave her in a hospital that is, by your own admission, treating her as a puzzle instead of a patient. She needs rest. She needs familiarity.”

“Familiarity?” the doctor scoffs. “She has profound amnesia! She doesn't even know her own name.”

“Then she can re-learn it in the comfort of her own home,” Maja says.

The doctor looks at me. A long, hard stare.

“Ms. Ahlquist... Neptune... do you feel safe going with these people?”

“These people” are my family. This is what the data says.

“Yes,” I say.

Maja looks at the doctor. “She is healthy. She is lucid. And she wishes to leave. We are done here. I will sign the 'Against Medical Advice' forms, and you will prepare her discharge.”

The doctor stares at Maja. He is... defeated. He knows he has lost.

“I am noting my severe, formal objection in her file. The hospital is not liable for this.”

“I am aware,” Maja says, opening her briefcase.

An hour later, I am dressed in a clean tracksuit.

A nurse appears with a wheelchair. I decline it.

We are in the hallway. The doctor is gone.

It's just me, my... “parents” and my sister.

The girl, Zari. I think that’s her name, I heard them refer to her that way.

She has been silent this whole time.

Maja, my mother, hands me a phone. The screen is a spiderweb of cracks.

“This is yours, dear. It was in your jacket. We'll get you a new one after this ok?”

I take it. “Thank you. This will do for now…”

My father, Rafael, smiles at me. “Your apartment is just as you left it. We've had it cleaned.”

My apartment? “I don't live with you?”

Maja looks at Rafael.

“No, dear,” Maja says, her voice suddenly soft. “You... you valued your independence. You've had your own place... for a while now. We thought... we thought you'd want to go back there? Right?”

She is asking me a question I cannot answer.

“Yes,” I say. It is the easiest and most logical reply.

The girl in the corner, Zari, finally moves. She walks toward me.

She looks... terrible. Her eyes are red. She looks like she hasn't slept in a week.

She looks scared.

“Neptune,” she says. Her voice is a cracked whisper. “Are you really okay?”

“Yes,” I say.

She flinches, like I've hit her.

“You... you remember me, right? I’m your sister…” she asks.

“Unfortunately, I do not,” I say.

“I see...” She won't look at me. She just... stares at the wall behind me. She looks lost.

“Neptune!”

A new voice. Loud. Energetic.

I look down the hall.

Elowen is there. And she is not alone.

A small girl with blonde hair is waving frantically, she is wearing far too many layers for an indoor hallway. A taller girl with pink hair is leaning against the wall, looking annoyed.

“Ah,” Maja says, her “professional” voice gone. “Your friends are here to pick you up. That’s Vivi, Lui, and Elowen…”

“I see…”

She and Rafael look... relieved.

They walk with me to the end of the hall. The blonde girl, Vivi, launches herself at me, wrapping me in a hug.

She is wearing a thick turtleneck. Inside a hospital.

This is an overly-tight embrace, but I guess I don’t have any problem with this.

“Nepipi! You're okay!”

I do not hug her back. I just wait for her to be finished.

The pink-haired girl, Lui, rolls her eyes. “Vivi, you're suffocating her. Can't you see she's... different?”

Elowen just smiles, her “sad” face still active.

“We're taking you home, Neptune,” she says.

Vivi's bodyguard, a large man in a suit, takes my small hospital bag.

“Oh, Neptune. Mama and Papa going to go back to Sweden for a few months, alright? Be careful next time…” Maja says.

I look back and nod to Maja and Rafael. “I will, and thank you.”

I look at Zari yet she is still staring at nothing.

I turn and follow my group. I have my own worry to think about for now.

We get into a large, black car. Vivi is in the front seat, talking to her driver.

I am in the back, between Lui and Elowen.

It is quiet.

I turn on the cracked phone with my fingerprint. It works.

It opens directly to my messages.

The last one is from three weeks ago.

From a contact named “Nerei.”

Nerei: NEPTUNE, DONT LEAVE ME ON READ. TALK TO ME

“Nerei.”

I search the empty room in my head.

The name is not there.

My heart... the 'beep' in my head... it just jumped. 75. 80.

This name is a problem. Like “Carena.”

“Nerei” = high-stress variable.

Who is she?

I suppose that’s another thing to worry about… For now I want to make sure we actually have good relationships.

I tap the icon for my contacts. I will find her name.

I scroll.

A, B, C...

E... Elowen.

L... Laome. Lui.

M... Medea.

N... Nerei

V... Valter. Vivi.

Y... Yuel.

...Za... Ze...

Nothing.

Hm? This is a second contradiction.

“Zari is not in my contacts,” I say. “Is she written differently?”

Elowen shoots a glance at me. “What do you mean?”

“My 'sister.' She is not in my phone. But 'Nerei,' the 'complicated' one, is.”

“Oh… They're... the same person,” Elowen whispers, so quiet I can barely hear her. “Nerei is Zariah.”

Lui groans and sinks lower in her seat. “Elowen, shut up. Do not say more.”

“What? What did Ellie do wrong?” Vivi asks from the front.

“He told us not to 'feed her' info, smartass!” Lui continues.

“Well, lying is worse,” Elowen whispers back, twisting her hands. “I can't... I can't lie to her.”

I look at Elowen.

“Nerei is Zariah.”

This... this is an illogical redundancy. Why have two names?

And why was “Zariah” not at the hospital to pick me up?

Will she go back to Sweden with both of my step-parents?

Why was she so... scared?

And this… Car interior. Quiet.

Too warm.

There is no AC. The heater is humming softly, blowing hot air into the cabin.

The air is thick. Stifling. My head hurts.

I look at the front seat. Vivi is rubbing her cheeks.

It looks like the driver keeps the environment thermally regulated for her. It is efficient for her, inefficient for the rest of us.

He rarely talks. Just nods. One nod = yes. Two nods = still yes. That’s enough.

Vivi leans forward, ignoring the heat.

“Arthur! Do you remember the bakery with the pink frosting? Can we stop there? Please? PLEASE?”

Arthur nods once. Eyes stay on the road.

Vivi continues. She never stops. “And Arthur, do you still have your teddy bear? The one I bit when I was three? Does he still have the bite mark? Can we bring him? I think Neptune needs emotional support.”

Arthur nods again. Steady. Unbothered.

Lui throws her head back against the seat, sweating slightly.

“Vivi, he’s driving. Let him breathe. And maybe crack a window? We're baking back here.”

“No windows!” Vivi snaps, pulling her collar up to cover her red neck. “The night air is poison! And I am breathing! I’m multitasking! Talking AND breathing! Surely he can hear and breathe at the same time.”

Elowen sits beside me. Eyes lowered. Her hands fold in her lap like she’s praying.

She glances at me once. Worried. She doesn’t speak.

Vivi leans farther forward. Too close to Arthur’s shoulder.

“Arthur! What was my favourite cartoon when I was seven, again?”

Arthur lifts one finger off the wheel and points upward.

Vivi gasps. “YES! The bunny show! You remember everything!”

“He literally didn’t say anything...” Lui mutters, fanning herself with her hand.

I close my eyes briefly. My brain feels like sand. There are so many variables to keep track of. The heat makes it worse.

Vivi finally turns around and notices my face.

“Neptune... are you sure you’re okay? You’re blinking like you forgot how to blink.”

“Processing,” I answer. “The temperature is high.”

Lui snorts. “Yeah. Welcome to the sauna. She’s alive alright.”

Arthur still says nothing.

Vivi keeps talking. Elowen watches me quietly. The car moves through the night like nothing happened.

Yet inside my head, everything is wrong.

“Oh! We're here,” Vivi says, her voice still too high.

The car stops.

I look out the window. Seems like a normal building.

“So, this is my home?”

We all get out of the car. The night air hits us instantly. It is cool. Pleasant to me.

But Vivi flinches. She pulls her jacket tight, burying her face in her scarf. Her skin is already reacting, turning blotchy red around her eyes.

“She’s allergic to cold. But it’s fine, we needn’t worry too much…” Lui said.

Vivi's driver, the large man, gets my small bag from the trunk.

Elowen looks at me. “Do you... do you want us to come up with you?”

“Yeah!! Want a little company? We can stay while Arthur gets the cake!” Vivi's voice is muffled by her scarf.

“Vivi, she just got out of the hospital,” Lui says, shivering slightly in the cool air. “She probably wants to sleep, not host... whatever this is.”

I look at them. My “friends.”

One is a bad liar.

One is... complicated.

One is... a bad liar, but she tells the truth.

They are all compromised data sources. But they are the only data sources I have.

“Yes,” I say. “You can come up. I need to see my apartment. You can tell me if it is... correct.”

Vivi beams, though her eyes look watery from the cold. “Yay! CCC sleepover!”

Lui groans. “We are not having a sleepover.”

“Fine,” Vivi says. “We'll just... stay until she's comfortable!”

I nod. “Thanks, and I guess my home is warmer than the cold air.”

Vivi beams, “Nepipi! You’re the best!”

My first task is to analyse my “home.”

My second task is to find out why my sister has two names, and why she is scared of me.

I walk into the building.

We take the lift to the third floor.

The hallway is narrow and quiet.

Vivi hums behind me, too loud for the environment, rubbing her arms to generate heat.

Elowen twists her hands.

Lui looks like she wants to get whatever this is over with.

And Arthur... He’s just there.

We stop in front of my door. Room 3-4.

I look at the handle.

Something is wrong.

“...Did I forget to lock the door?”

Vivi leans forward, her blonde hair bouncing. “Nepipi! What’s up?”

I lower my hand to my pocket. My fingers close around the key they gave me.

“No,” I say slowly, analysing the metal in my palm. “I thought I needed this key. But the door is already open...”

The handle moves under the slightest pressure.

A breath of cold, unmoving air spills out of the gap.

Vivi hisses as the draft hits her face, stepping back.

The three girls freeze behind me.

My heart monitor in my head spikes again.

75...

76...

77...

Something—or someone—was here.

And whatever they did, I won’t know it. I possibly can’t.