Kamen Rider in DC

Haruka lies in the sterile hospital bed, his mind racing. The doctor's words echo in his head - a car accident, his parents coming to visit. But Haruka knows the truth. He remembers the bank robbery, the gun, the struggle. His shoulder aches, a constant reminder of what he endured.

He shifts slightly, wincing at the pain. Why are they lying to him? Haruka's brow furrows as he tries to piece together what's real. The girl's terrified face flashes in his memory, spurring him to action. He had to protect her, had to stop the robber. And he did, at the cost of his own injury.

Haruka stares at the crisp, white sheets, his fingers tracing the edge. If this was truly just a car accident, why does he feel like he's missing something crucial? His gaze drifts to the window, watching the city outside. There has to be more to this story, some explanation for the discrepancy between the doctor's words and his own recollection.

Haruka watches, puzzled, as the door swings open and a man and woman rush in. The woman's eyes are shining with relief as she hurries to his bedside, enveloping him in a warm embrace.

"Oh, Haruka, thank goodness you're awake!" she exclaims, her voice thick with emotion. Haruka stiffens, unsure how to respond to this stranger's affection.

The man approaches the bed as well, his expression mirroring the woman's. "Son, we were so worried," he says, his deep voice laced with concern.

Haruka's brow furrows as he looks between the two. "Who are you?" he asks, his tone cautious.

The man and woman exchange a troubled glance, their faces etched with worry. "Haruka, it's us - your parents, Hana and Matsu," the woman says gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Haruka's eyes widen in bewilderment. "My parents?" he echoes, his voice barely above a whisper. This can't be right - he's an orphan, has been for as long as he can remember. How can these strangers claim to be his family?

Hana nods, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, sweetheart. We've been so worried about you since the accident." She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, her touch warm and reassuring.

Matsu steps closer, his expression somber. "The doctors said you might be a bit confused when you woke up. But we're here now, Haruka. We're not going anywhere."

Haruka's mind races, trying to make sense of their words. An accident? These people claiming to be his parents? It's all too much, too foreign to be real. He searches their faces, looking for any sign of deception, but finds only genuine concern and affection.

Haruka watches the doctor enter the room, his gaze wary. These people claim to be his parents, but everything about this situation feels off, like a puzzle with missing pieces.

Hana turns to the doctor, her brow creased with worry. "Doctor, what happened to Haruka? Why doesn't he remember us?"

The doctor clears his throat, his expression somber. "It appears your son is suffering from a case of retrograde amnesia. He seems to have lost memories from the time leading up to the accident."

Haruka's heart pounds in his chest. Accident? Amnesia? None of this aligns with his recollection of the bank robbery. He opens his mouth to speak, to insist on the truth, but the doctor continues.

"The good news is that his memories aren't permanently lost. With time and the right treatment, there's a strong possibility he'll regain his recollection of past events," the doctor explains, meeting Hana's anxious gaze.

Hana's hand tightens around Haruka's, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But will he remember us? His own family?" The vulnerability in her voice tugs at Haruka's heart, despite his lingering doubts.

The doctor pauses, his expression thoughtful. "It's hard to say for certain. Amnesia can be unpredictable. The memories may return gradually, or he may need additional support to trigger the recall. I'd recommend family therapy and a structured rehabilitation program to help stimulate his recollection."

Haruka listens, his mind racing. This can't be real. How can these strangers claim to be his family when he has no memory of them? He wants to protest, to demand the truth, but the anguish in Hana's eyes gives him pause.

"So there's hope?" Hana asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "My son will come back to us?"

The doctor nods, offering a reassuring smile. "With time and patience, I believe there's a good chance Haruka will regain his memories. But it's important to be prepared that the process may not be immediate or easy."

Haruka's gaze shifts between the doctor and Hana, a battle raging within him. Part of him wants to believe their words, to accept this reality where he has a loving family. But the vivid recollection of the bank robbery, the terror in the young girl's eyes, it all feels too real to dismiss.

As the doctor excuses himself, Hana turns to Haruka, her expression a mix of hope and concern. "Haruka, sweetheart, I know this must be so confusing for you. But we're here, and we're not going anywhere. We'll get through this together, I promise."

Haruka's fingers tighten around the crisp sheets, his heart torn. He wants to trust her, to believe that this is his true reality. But the nagging doubts linger, and he can't shake the feeling that there's more to his situation.

...

Haruka stayed in the hospital for a week before being discharged. He rode in the car of his parents and was driving home. Hana asks if Haruka is doing okay.

Haruka shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the car window. "I'm...fine," he says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

Hana glances over at him, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "I'm so glad to hear that, sweetheart. We were so worried about you." She reaches out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Haruka stares at their intertwined fingers, his brow furrowed. This woman, this man beside him - they claim to be his parents, but the word feels heavy and unfamiliar. He clears his throat, attempting to push down the lingering doubts that have plagued him since waking up in the hospital.

"Mother," he says, the title barely above a whisper. The word feels foreign, like it belongs to someone else. But he knows he must make the effort, for their sake, even if his heart still yearns for the truth.

Hana's eyes light up, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Oh, Haruka, it's so good to hear you say that." She gives his hand another squeeze, her touch radiating a motherly affection that Haruka has never known.

Matsu, silent until now, reaches over to pat Haruka's shoulder. "We're just glad to have you back home, son." There's a weight to his words, a depth of emotion that Haruka struggles to comprehend.

Home. The word echoes in Haruka's mind, foreign and yet enticing. Is this truly his home, with these people who claim to be his family? The doubts still linger, but the sincerity in their expressions and the warmth of their touch tug at his heart, making him want to believe.

As the car turns onto a quiet residential street, Haruka takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the next step in this unfamiliar journey. He knows he must continue to play along, to try and unravel the mystery of his past, even if it means temporarily accepting this new reality.

Haruka stepped out of the car, his eyes widening as he took in the grand, two-story mansion before him. The intricate architecture, the well-manicured gardens, and the sheer size of the property were a far cry from the modest orphanage he had called home.

"Is this...our house?" Haruka asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he turned to Hana, who stood by his side.

Hana nodded, a hopeful smile on her face. "Yes, Haruka. This is our home." She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her eyes searching his face for any sign of recognition.

Haruka's brow furrowed as he surveyed the mansion once more, trying to reconcile this lavish setting with the life he had known. "I...I don't remember," he admitted, the words heavy on his tongue.

Hana's smile faltered slightly, a flash of disappointment crossing her features before she quickly masked it. "That's alright, dear. The doctor said it might take time for your memories to return." She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Why don't we go inside? Maybe being in a familiar environment will help jog your memory."

Nodding hesitantly, Haruka followed Hana and Matsu up the stone pathway to the grand entrance. As they stepped into the foyer, Haruka's gaze swept over the ornate furnishings and the polished marble floors, his mind reeling.

"Are we...rich?" he asked, the question spilling out before he could stop it.

Matsu, who had been silent until now, offered Haruka a warm smile. "In a way, yes. I own a chain of hotels called Kojima Hotels. It's been a successful business, and it's provided us with a comfortable lifestyle."

Haruka's eyes widened as he processed this new information. "Kojima Hotels?" The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place the connection. "So, you're a businessman?"

"That's right," Matsu replied, his tone calm and reassuring. "I'm the CEO of the company. But our family has always been my top priority." He placed a hand on Haruka's shoulder, the gesture gentle and fatherly.

Haruka nodded, his gaze shifting between Hana and Matsu. The warmth in their expressions and the way they carried themselves with an air of security and prosperity was a stark contrast to the life he had known. As he stood in the grand foyer, Haruka couldn't help but wonder how his reality had been so dramatically altered.

Haruka followed Hana up the grand staircase, his eyes taking in the ornate details of the mansion with a mixture of awe and unease. As they reached the second floor, Hana turned to him, a warm smile on her face.

"This is your room, Haruka," she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I hope you find it comfortable."

Hana opened the door, and Haruka stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the room. It was a typical teenage boy's space – a neatly made bed, a desk with a laptop, and a bookshelf filled with various titles. And yet, as Haruka looked around, he felt no sense of familiarity. None of the items or the layout triggered any memories in his mind.

He turned to Hana, his brow furrowed. "I don't recognize anything in here," he admitted, the words laced with a hint of frustration.

Hana's expression softened, and she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's alright, dear. The doctor said it might take time for your memories to return. Why don't you take a look around and see if anything feels familiar?"

Haruka nodded, his gaze once again sweeping across the room. He ran his fingers along the spine of the books, hoping to find a title that might spark a recollection, but nothing seemed to resonate. The desk, the dresser, even the sports trophies displayed on the shelves – all of it felt foreign to him.

As Hana watched him, Haruka couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. This room, this house, these people who claimed to be his family – it all felt so unfamiliar, so at odds with the life he thought he knew.

Haruka watched as Hana exited the room, her concerned gaze lingering on him for a moment before she closed the door. Finally, he was alone, surrounded by the unfamiliar trappings of a life he could not recall.

Turning his attention to the room, Haruka began searching in earnest, his fingers trailing along the surfaces of the desk and dresser, hoping to find some clue that would help make sense of this strange situation. He opened the drawers, rummaging through their contents, but found nothing that resonated with him – no diaries, no personal items that might trigger a memory.

Frustrated, Haruka's gaze landed on the smartphone resting on the nightstand. He picked it up, the weight of the device familiar in his hand, and began swiping through the screens. As he navigated the various apps, his eyes widened at the sight of numerous photographs – images of himself, smiling and laughing alongside Hana and Matsu.

Haruka's heart raced as he stared at the images, his fingers tracing the outlines of the faces, trying to find some connection. And yet, as he looked at the versions of himself captured in these moments, he felt a strange disconnect. It was as if he was peering into the life of a stranger, a person whose experiences and emotions were utterly foreign to him.

The photographs, meant to be a window into his past, only served to deepen the mystery that surrounded him. Haruka's brow furrowed as he continued to scroll through the images, his mind grappling with the stark contrast between the life depicted in these pictures and the reality he had woken up to in the hospital.

///

Give Power Stones so I can continue to write this story. If it does not gain any interest, I will drop it.