He was aware of himself again, if one could even call it awareness.

He was standing on a floating island. His feet were in some snow and there was an easel in front of him. A paintbrush in one hand and a wooden palette in the other. All of the paints on it had mixed together, more or less, to create a dark brown mess. There were some whites, blacks, blues, and grays here or there. There were even a few specks of the other colors, but they were harder to find than the others. The shade of the mess on the palette was so dark that he couldn't tell the difference between it and the bristles of the paintbrush. His eyes flickered to the canvas that was on the easel.

Oh, gods.... what had he even been trying to paint? It was just a mess, one that was even worse than the one on the palette. There were so many splatters and strokes, all going in different directions and the shape was all too blurred for him to comprehend. He stared at it for a bit longer, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He broke into a fit of rapid blinking. He looked down at the tools in his hands and saw the paint on the palette had dried up completely.

This.... confused him. These didn't feel right in his hands. He wasn't an artist.... why was he painting? He couldn't paint. He blinked once and they were gone, laying in the snow at his feet. The icy chill that accompanied the snow at all times had gone numb by now, even though his toes were entirely exposed and even buried under some of snow. He looked around himself, looking for anything that could help him out.

There were some crumbled ruins off to his left. They looked ancient.... but how old even was ancient? The cracked bricks had a reddish tint to them. Were they always reddish? He could've swore they were purple... there was some kind of door there... a heavy set of double doors that were also tinted with a deep red. Arched at the top, curved and rounded. There was something on them. Something..... what was that? What was the name of it? It had to have a name, right? Didn't everything have a name?

He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at.... whatever was on the door. When he next came to, there was someone next to him. Holding his hand gently but firmly. Was.... was their hand shaking? Or was it his own? Before he could ponder anymore on the thought, their voice broke through. He looked up to look at the person as they were talking. That was what he was supposed to do, right? But as he looked at their face, he found himself taken back.

Why.... was everything on their face moving? He didn't mean like blinking or their mouth moving with their words. The different pieces of their face were moving. He couldn't help but stare, blinking as he tried to figure out what was wrong. He wasn't even hearing what they were saying. An occasional word processed every now and then, but something... something definitely wasn't right.

Who was this person? Why were they here with him? Why did their face not make any sense? Why was the rest of their body a blur? Why did their voice sound like static? Why did--?

"Ink?"

He blinked, coming back to reality. That one word was louder, clearer, more.... understandable than the other words. He looked back to the person's face. Their features were back in place, or what he believed to be their place, anyway. The eyes were supposed to be above someone's nose, right? And the mouth beneath the nose or nose area? Were.... were pupils supposed to change shape? What was wrong with their head? At some point he realized they were probably waiting for him to respond.

"I...." He began, unsure of how to talk to them. "Did you say something...?"

"Yes, Ink." They nodded.

A smile on their face. Were they happy he responded? If so, then....

"Who.... who is Ink?" He asked.

This made their smile falter, on the brink of disappearing entirely. But why? Had he done something wrong? Why did he care so much about this? He didn't even know who this 'Ink' was. He really wanted to meet them, though. He liked talking to others. At least, he thought he did. He wasn't entirely sure. Was the mysterious person hiding somewhere? Were they playing a game? He didn't know how to play the game.

"You're Ink," the person next to him said. "That's your name."

"Oh...." Was all he said, shoulders dropping. "Um..... why are you here?"

"I came to check on you. It's a good thing I did," they joked, laughing lightly. He didn't find it very funny. "Um... how long have you been standing out here?"

".... I dunno," he confessed. "I.... it feels like only a few seconds. Very short."

The person next to him nodded, like they were trying to understand him. Why? Why did they have to put effort towards it? Was there something wrong with him? Maybe they were like him. Maybe they weren't good with words or talking to others. They cleared their throat, trying to start up a conversation with him again.

"I saw you were staring at those doors," they said. "Anything interesting?"

"What's the mark mean?" He asked, pointing to the thing on the doors. "It has to have a name."

"That's the Delta Rune. It's the symbol of the Monster Kingdoms," they explained to him, but there was a hint of sadness to their voice. "It exists in every AU."

"AU....?" He repeated, an odd feeling in his chest. Why did that sound so familiar to him? He tried to think, but he was met with nothing. "What's an AU?"

"..... It stands for 'alternate universe'... right now we're in the Doodle Sphere, which acts as a kind of safety hub for the AUs," they continued to explain. "Every AU has a Monster Kingdom and a Human Kingdom."

"I want to see a kingdom," he said, smiling a bit. "Can I see a kingdom?"

"O-Of course, but I can't promise the one we're going to will be the most glamorous one in existence." They nodded. "Um. There are some people there who would r-really like to meet you...."

"Really!?" He asked, spirits lifting. "I wanna meet them right now!"

The person who had been with him this whole time nodded, offering out their hand. He took it in his own and they led him through what was known as the Doodle Sphere. He stared at every floating island with fascination and wonder, gasping at the invisible pathways that let them travel between them. They came across lots of pretty pictures too, ones that looked like they took loads of time and talent. He asked about them. The person in front of him had a smile on their face, but they looked upset about something. Was he supposed to know what all of this stuff was already?

The next thing he knew, they were in front of a set of double doors that were entirely black and white. The doors had designs engraved into them that looked like.... the pattern of something. He wasn't sure. The handle on the black door was golden and in the shape of a.... what was that? He was fairly certain those weren't supposed to be golden... yellow was the closest color. The handle of the white door was black and in the same shape as the white door's handle. He could feel something strong coming from the doorway, but he didn't know what.

"It's okay. This is where we have to go to meet our friends," the person said. "I'll hold your hand the entire way. No one there will hurt us."

He didn't remember walking through the portal. But now he was on a.... was this a couch? The room he was in had a very dark color scheme going on, consisting primarily of dark blues, greens, purples, and black. But it had a very regal and fancy theme going on too. He looked up when someone called out to him. When they said his name. But it had been more of an instinctive reaction, he hadn't really been paying attention. And for some reason, it made him flinch. It just didn't sit right with him, that name, much like..... what had he done that felt similar?

What was his name again?

"-- I see you're... awake," a voice called out to him.

He looked up to see that people had entered the room. One was completely black with four extra limbs that the others didn't have, one was an eyesore to the entire room (they were dressed in vibrant colors such as yellow), another had these... things along his body. They were.... words? What did they say? He was so focused on trying to read those words-- though he didn't even know what reading was-- that he didn't notice the fourth and fifth people in the room. One was the person who brought him here, the other was a child who had no color to them.

The person in yellow mouthed something. A word uttered out from him. It sounded like he was trying to say something, but it didn't register in his head.

"In--" That same word kept getting messed up, no matter who it came from. "Are you feeling alright?"

So much concern in those yellow eyes. Why did he feel bad? Why was he so uncomfortable?

Who were these people....?

"I... I'm sorry...." He muttered out, words and his voice sounding foreign on his own tongue.

"For what?" The yellow one asked. "What are you sorry for, ---?"

"I......" He began, hesitant for a moment. "I don't know who any of you are......"

That confession alone seemed to be enough to break them. The one who was dressed in yellow broke down crying, and the one with the four extra limbs tried his best to soothe and comfort him. The person who had brought him here turned away from the scene, a hand up to their mouth. The shaded child's head lowered, shaking as they closed their eyes as much as they could. The one who had the words on his body looked the most conflicted.

.......

When did he get pulled up from the couch? Why was this person hugging him? They didn't know each other.... did they? When did this stranger put his hand on his head? Were they.... were they crying? He couldn't wear what the person was saying. The words he couldn't read were starting to fade from view. Where was everything going? Why was everyone leaving? He didn't want to be alone.....

It was scary when he was alone. So many voices whispering to him... so many things he didn't understand.

.......

He had a boyfriend. Where was his boyfriend? He tried to think through the mush in his head. He couldn't figure anything out. He couldn't construct faces in his head. He couldn't hear the voices of people he knew, or was supposed to know. He couldn't recall anything or anywhere. He couldn't remember proper names, he couldn't even remember his own.

......

".... Ru.... ru......"

That mangled, broken word was enough to catch their attention. The person who was holding him looked down, but he was unaware of that. Everything was so dark.... he wanted Ruru.... but who even was Ruru? He couldn't match a face, voice, appearance, or anything. He just knew that was his boyfriend and he cared about him. Maybe if they brought him his Ruru, he'd remember something!

He tried to cry out for his Ruru. The words couldn't form properly and got caught in his throat, with only the name repeating over and over. He wanted his Ruru. He wanted to know his Ruru was safe. He wanted to see his Ruru. Where was his Ruru?

"Ruru.... Ruru....." He repeated over and over again, voice growing weaker and fainter. "Ruru...."

... Why was he crying? What had he just been doing? Why did he feel so numb? Why did nothing make sense to him?

....... What was the name again?