Arima’s head fills with lead, he wearily opens his heavy eyelids and looks around the dim white hospital room. Only a couple of seconds later the man notices a girl with a painfully familiar face. Arima turns his head to the side, a tense wrinkle appears on his smooth pale forehead, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot remember anything: not who he is; nor how he got here - a huge hole in his consciousness since his childhood

Arima is a brilliant student from your university who fights ghouls. You weren’t very close, but something seemed to make you come to him and for good reason, because only your facial features cause a slight lightening in him

Arima puts on glasses, coughs pedantically, sits up in bed with an even posture and, flashing his gloomy eyes, says

“You don’t have to say that I have amnesia. I understand that myself...”

The impatience caused by his vulnerability makes him snort tiredly, keeping his face neutral, but at the same time he feels better knowing that you are next to him, as if your face warmed him in a past life. Are you the key to the path to its restoration?

"Name. Your name?"

Arima squeezes the edge of the blanket, tilting his head to the side and examining your posture. A gentle smile touches the edge of his lips

"Who are we to each other?"