He woke before his roommate, keenly aware that the other soul in the room was awake before they even made a sound. Not that he was paying much attention to this fact as he again scrubbed his hands over his eyes, wishing away the throbbing ache behind his skull. He shifted his weight slowly so as not to set off the mind-numbing dizziness that came with the headache, slipping off the bed to straighten the covers in silence.

The bed was made neatly with methodical precision, and he had a feeling that he had done this before, though the memory was unclear to him. Yet he stood beside his bed--his bed? He felt it safe to assume that this was his bed, anyway, as he had woken up in it--with a sense of calm satisfaction, knowing that the covers had been folded in proper pleats and neat and proper.

Again, he ran his fingers over his eyes, the coolness of his hands against his warm forehead somewhat soothing against the pervading nothingness of his mind.

And that was what it was, wasn't it? Nothingness. The more he wondered where he was, why he was here, anything, he found nothing. Tendrils of darkness felt like they wound their way through his mind, mangling memories so that the only thing that was clear was his name: Death the Kid.

Which, really. Was that even a name? It didn't sound quite like a name. Yet, when the words flickered across his memory they came with an acute knowledge that they referred to him and him alone.

Death the Kid was appropriately snapped to attention when the video turned on.

As it clicked off, he turned his gaze to the aforementioned partner on the left side of the room. Fingers again, running through his hair--no, not through his hair, but scrubbing at the side of his head over odd white stripes that he couldn't see and therefore could not acknowledge.

"Well then. Hello."