WC: 1938
Warnings: Hints at derealization, slight self-deprecation

-

"He doesn't recognize us," Grian was telling Cleo a few minutes later. He'd immediately called her after what Ranboo had said—turns out she was heading to Scar's house anyway after she saw Ranboo's death message in chat. The two of them, plus Zedaph, now stood outside Larry's house.

Cleo glanced up at Larry, where Ranboo still was. "I don't understand. The void isn't supposed to erase your memory, is it?"

Zed shook his head. The poor guy had been dragging himself pretty hard for what had happened back in the Cave. "No. Back when I was studying the void, I never noticed anything like that happening."

"D'you think this has something to do with why he can't remember anything pre-Hermitcraft?" Grian asked.

"Maybe. I dunno," Cleo said. "Right now, I'm just worried we're not gonna be able to get his memories back and we'll have to start all over again."

On that depressing note, she climbed back up the ladder leading into Larry's shell. "I'm gonna go talk to him and see if I can jog his memory."

"What do you want us to do?" Zed called after her.

"Go tell Xisuma. He'll want to know about this." Cleo shut the door behind her before the other Hermits could ask any more questions.

--

Ranboo knew he should know where he was right now, but he didn't know why or how.

It was like he was grasping for something that was just out of his reach. He could see it, but he couldn't touch or grab it. Everything around him looked so familiar but for the life of him, he couldn't recall where he'd seen it all before. The gap in his memory was infuriating.

"...Ranboo?"

A woman with bright orange hair was pulling herself up the ladder. Her skin was an odd bluish-green color, but that didn't throw Ranboo off for whatever reason. She watched him with such familiarity that he was sure he should know her.

"...I know you, don't I?"

The woman frowned. "Yes. My name is Cleo. I'm one of your servermates here in Hermitcraft."

The names seemed to fall in place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was weird—Ranboo could place the names in his mind, but he didn't have the full context. Like, how did he know Cleo in the first place? How did he arrive in Hermitcraft? He knew the answers, somewhere in the back of his mind, but it's like there was a barrier preventing him from seeing more.

The fact that he had some kind of amnesia didn't surprise him, either. It was just another fact, like how his name was Ranboo, or how his hair was two-toned—black on the left and white on the right.

"Keep talking," he said. "It's like...the memories are coming back as you tell me more and more. Some sort of recall, I guess?"

So Cleo did.

She told him everything that had happened in the last few days, starting with how he had found himself stuck in a death loop by spawn. She told him about meeting Xisuma and how the admin had explained Ranboo was stuck in Hermitcraft for god knows how long. She explained that the room they were in right now was Scar's starter base, and how Grian had given him lessons on how to fly with an elytra. Finally, she'd explained how he'd fallen into the void, which was why he'd woken up back at Scar's base. Apparently, that's when he'd lost his memory.

As Cleo spoke, each detail clicked in Ranboo's mind right where it was supposed to go. Everything made sense. Having Cleo there was like having some kind of memory recall--a trigger to help bring back anything he'd forgotten.

"I don't understand why you remember all this, but not...whatever happened before you got here," Cleo said when Ranboo voiced his thoughts aloud. "It's weird."

Ranboo had a hunch, which surprised him.

"It might be because I have things that help me recall here. Like you. Or Grian or Zedaph. I don't have anything—or anyone—from my home server to remind me of what happened."

"Mmm." Cleo hummed under her breath as she thought. "Ranboo, do you have any way that you can trigger that recall without using one of us to explain? I'm just worried that it'll happen again, and you might as well be prepared if it does and no one's around to help."

Ranboo thought for a minute. "Uh, I can write it down? In, like, a book or something?"

"Ooh, yeah, that works. I can bind a journal for you later."

Cleo got up from where she was sitting next to Ranboo and started to pace around the room. "You lost all your items after you fell into the void. Your elytra, your communicator, rockets...but that can all be replaced. I'll drop all that stuff off later once I grab a journal, too, alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Cleo."

Before she left the room, she turned back to Ranboo one last time.

"You really gave us a scare back there, you know. But I'm just glad you're alright."

--

Better start writing in this before I forget it again

Ranboo's quill skirted across the page accidentally, leaving a stray ink mark after the word again. He sighed. Typical—Cleo goes through all this effort to make a nice leather-bound journal for him, and he was already spilling ink all over it.

I don't know if this kind of amnesia is going to happen again but it's already happened twice
You currently live on a server called Hermitcraft
Your closest friend is Cleo but you're also friends with Grian, Scar, and Zedaph
This isn't your home server, though.
But you don't know how to get back
So you're stuck here until xisuma finds a way

He also jotted a few thoughts about the day's events, which he remembered well, up until the point where he'd fallen into the void. He didn't have any memory of that, or what it looked like. He hadn't told Cleo that, though—she already had enough worries about him. She would probably freak out if she found out he hadn't gotten all his memories back.

Ranboo stopped writing and read over his notes. Honestly, it was a jumbled mess— it was barely cohesive, with points going all over the place. His messy, quick handwriting and the ink blotches didn't help, either.

But it should be enough to help him recall if another amnesia spike hit him again.

Memories of the void don't stay in your mind. Even after you get the rest of your memories back, they don't reappear 
what even happened down there..?

Ranboo's quill started writing on its own as his eyes momentarily unfocused.

Probably shouldn't let anyone else see this.
I haven't even told cleo some of what im writing

He realized his quill had veered off the page and quickly righted it before he could make another ink stain.

maybe i can go talk to grian or someone to take my mind off everything

"...'Boo?"

That would probably be for the best

Fuck, he was zoning out again.

"Boo, are you even listening? C'mon, man."

Was it just his eyesight, or were the pages getting blurrier...?

"Hey! Ranboo!"

i'm tired

"Are you there?"

He couldn't read the writing in front of him anymore.

"...'Boo? It's me. 'Bee."

His vision faded to black as his eyes closed.

"The least you can do is pay attention to me, you know."

--

Ranboo was sitting in the middle of an open field. There was nothing to see but grass in every direction and the occasional purple flower poking out of the ground. He picked up one nearby and plucked at its many petals, watching them float down gently to the ground.

He turned to his left and saw someone sitting next to him, staring straight forward at the horizon. His clothing looked just as worn as Ranboo's original had suit had been--maybe a bit worse. He had on a green tunic and ripped blue jeans. Curved horns poked out of his tousled brown hair, circling his long, floppy ears.

The guy--Ranboo was assuming this was whoever "Bee" was, since he was the only other person in the field--noticed Ranboo staring at him and grinned.

"Man, you finally turn around and look at me. What's gotten into you lately, man? You've been preoccupied with something."

That was definitely the voice he'd heard earlier. Was this a memory? Some kind of flashback? It felt much more real and vivid than a vision should have been. Ranboo could feel the grass brushing up against his tail as it swished back and forth, he could smell the sweet scent of the purple flowers, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his back.

"...It's been hard lately," he found himself saying. "I guess I'm kind of...overwhelmed with everything. I'm sorry if I've been ignoring you."

"Nah." Bee scooted closer to Ranboo and leaned his head on the latter's shoulder. He did it so comfortably and easily that they must have known each other very well. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here, alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks, uh, 'Bee."

--

And the memory faded.

--

Ranboo jolted upright, knocking over his jar of ink and spilling it on the wooden floor in the process. His breathing was heavy, and it took a few moments for him to regain his surroundings.

He must have fallen asleep while writing in his journal. But...that vision of Bee, the flowers in the field...that couldn't have been just a dream. It was too vivid, it made too much sense. Dreams were usually fluid, mixing multiple events into a weird brew of visions.

When Bee had leaned on Ranboo, he could feel the weight of Bee resting against him. He refused to believe it was all just a dream or some weird fantasy he'd conjured up in an attempt to remember something before Hermitcraft, anything.

If it hadn't been a dream...had that been a flashback of his old server? What had even triggered it in the first place? Had that really been Bee, or whatever his name really was? He was supposed to be receiving answers about his home server, not more questions, dammit.

Something must have triggered it. That's all Ranboo knew for certain. If he couldn't remember his memories in Hermitcraft without having some kind of recall, surely the same rule of thumb applied to memories pre-Hermitcraft.

So what was that trigger?

The worst thing was, it could have happened any time today. And today was one of the most chaotic days Ranboo had had in Hermitcraft so far. He'd visited so many bases of different styles, punched so many contraptions' buttons, any of that could have been the trigger.

Or maybe it wasn't even a flashback. Maybe Ranboo was being delusional. Maybe he was overthinking everything again, like he always did. Maybe he was trying to live out some weird fantasy, and reality was staring him right in the face.

He sighed in frustration, then sat back down at his desk and stared at his journal. His ink bottle had spilled all over the pages he'd been writing on, blotting out some sentences. Most of it was just his rambling, but...

...Wait, what was that?

In the corner of the page, so small it could have been mistaken for a stray ink mark, was a tiny drawing of a bee. A patch of ink had come dangerously close to blotting it out, but it missed it ever so slightly.

Oh.

Maybe it had been a flashback, after all.

-

School's started back up for me so updates might slow down a little bit :')) I'll try and get a chapter or two out every month though!

As always, thank you for reading <3