Prologue

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I don't know who I am.

Not really. Not anymore.

Sometimes, I wake up and expect to see fire. A sky split open. Screaming. But when I open my eyes, there's only stillness. Dust in the air. Cold stone beneath my back.

And then there's him.

I don't know his name. I don't know mine. But there's something about the color-that pink, wild and bright and impossible to forget. I see flashes of it in the dark, even when my eyes are closed. It's like my memory starts and ends with the back of his head, running toward something... or maybe away.

I think he was important. I think we knew each other.

But when I try to remember, it slips. Like trying to hold onto thread with burned fingers.

All I have is that color. That warmth. That feeling.
And the sound of a voice I miss before I've even heard it.

Invisible String | Natsu x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now