Sleep came easily that night.
Hiro barely remembered his head hitting the pillow before the world around him shifted, colors melting, sounds stretching, the air itself turning thick and heavy.
And then he was standing in that place again.
Everything was burning once more.
The same burning sky filled with smoke.
The same echo of screams twisted through the ruined city.
The same suffocating heat pressed against his skin.
However, this time he could breathe a bit easier.
His chest tightened. "…This dream again."
But unlike before, when fear had crushed him, when he could barely move, something felt different.
His legs didn't shake, and his mind wasn't swimming with panic.
Instead… he felt steadier and more grounded...
It felt like his body was finally in sync with his mind; his body remembered how this nightmare had ended last time, and refused to let it happen again.
He took a slow breath, eyes scanning the burning street. The flames crackled violently, devouring buildings as if trying to swallow the entire world.
Windows shattered, debris fell, and shadows twisted unnaturally in the smoke.
Then he heard it.
The scraping sound of claws dragging across the cracked pavement.
Hiro's stomach dropped.
The monsters were coming.
Just like before, twisted silhouettes emerging from the fire, their mouths opening far too wide to be human, limbs jerking violently like marionettes with broken strings.
But this time…Hiro didn't step back.
He planted his feet.
A sharp wind pushed through the street, scattering the smoke enough for him to see the creatures clearly. Five. No, six. Surrounding him.
His hands curled into fists.
"…I'm not running."
The nearest creature shrieked and lunged at him, claws outstretched.
And Hiro moved.
Not from fear.
But from determination.
He ducked under the swipe, his body reacting faster than his thoughts, twisting with an instinct he didn't know he had.
He grabbed a loose pipe from the rubble beside him and swung it in a clean arc.
CRACK—!
The monster flew back, dissolving into smoke before it hit the ground.
Another creature charged.
Hiro pivoted and drove his foot into its jaw, sending it tumbling across the pavement.
The others circled him, snarling.
Hiro breathed in, his heart felt strangely calm.
"Is that it?" he whispered, gripping the pipe tightly before he sounded a bit more confident, a bit shaky but confident smile. "I can do this all day."
The next creature leapt at him, but he sidestepped, slammed the pipe into its spine, and kicked its legs out. It burst like ash in the wind.
Another came from behind—
Hiro spun, swinging the pipe like a bat, catching it across the face with the pipe snapping upon impact and sending it into a wall that instantly collapsed onto it.
Now only one remained.
And it was the largest.
A hulking beast of shadow and flame, its eyes glowing like molten embers. It snarled, smoke pouring from its jagged maw.
Hiro's grip tightened.
"Come on…" he muttered. "I'm right here."
The monster roared, charging at him with ground-shaking force.
Hiro didn't flinch.
Instead, he stepped in and drove his fist forward—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
His alarm clock exploded to life, shredding the scene like a blade through paper.
The burning city vanished.
The monster disappeared.
The heat dissolved into the cold morning air.
Hiro jolted upright in bed, fist still thrust forward, punching nothing up empty air.
His breath came sharp.
Sweat clung to his skin.
His heart hammered like he had actually been fighting for his life.
For a moment, he stared at his clenched fist, still tingling, still warm, as if the flames from that dream had followed him into reality.
"…Damn it," he whispered, rubbing his face.
He let himself fall back onto the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling as his pulse slowly returned to normal.
"…That couldn't have just been a dream," he muttered.
It felt real, way too real.
He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled.
"Why does it always end right when I'm about to land the good hit or do something important though…?"
He swung his legs off the bed, feet meeting the cool floor as another thought crept in.
That dream wasn't fading.
Usually, dreams tended to blur or slip away from someone's memory after a while.
But this one?
He could recall every detail, every sound, every motion, as if he had lived it moments ago, hours later.
"…Whatever this is," he murmured, standing up and stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders, "I hope that it doesn't end up affecting my days too much."
His alarm kept beeping, forgotten on the nightstand.
He slapped it off.
Silence filled the room again, heavy, but calmer this time.
For a second, Hiro just stood there, listening to the faint hum of morning outside his window. Cars passing. Birds chirping. The normal sounds of a normal world.
A world that felt completely disconnected from the one he kept seeing in his sleep.
He walked to the window and pulled back the curtain.
The sunrise was gentle today, golden and soft, not at all like the sky in his nightmare. Trees swayed lightly in the wind. A neighbor walked their dog. Normal. Peaceful.
Totally at odds with the world that had tried to kill him in his sleep.
Hiro let the curtain fall back into place and sighed.
"…Please don't let this be the start of something weird," he said under his breath.
He grabbed his uniform from the chair and began getting ready, trying to push the dream from his mind, even though it clung to him stubbornly, refusing to let go.
As he buttoned up his uniform shirt, something nagged at his mind, a small, sharp memory tugging at him. 'Feel like I'm forgetting something…'
Hiro paused mid-motion.
"…What was it again?"
He glanced around his room, eyes scanning over schoolbooks, scattered notebooks, and his backpack half-zipped on the floor.
Then his gaze landed on the shelf near his bed.
The DecaDriver replica.
He'd set it there yesterday, meaning to put it away properly, but completely forgot after he fixed some wires.
For a moment, the sunlight caught the metal faceplate just right, and the surface gleamed.
Hiro blinked.
"…Right. Almost forgot."
He stepped over and picked it up.
He stepped over and picked it up.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the grip, a strange jolt crawled up his arm, subtle, like static electricity, but lingering just a bit too long.
Hiro froze.
"…The hell?"
He stared at the driver, brow furrowed. It felt warmer than it should've been.
Not enough to scare him, just… wrong. Like it had been sitting under a lamp or in direct sunlight, even though his room was still cool from the night air.
He turned it over once, twice. Nothing out of place. No loose wires. No buzzing. No weird sparks.
Still, that faint, uncomfortable sensation clung to his palm.
"…You're being weird," he muttered to himself more than the device.
With a small shake of his head, he opened his backpack and slipped the replica inside.
The second he let go of it, that odd feeling faded as if it had never been there in the first place.
Hiro zipped the bag shut.
Then paused.
"…Whatever," he sighed, shrugging with a tired, unconvincing smirk. "It's not real. I'm probably still half-asleep."
He slung the backpack over his shoulder, grabbed the rest of his things, and headed for the door.
─────╽ワンピース╽─────
OUTSIDE HIS HOME
─────╽ワンピース╽─────
Hiro headed out, locking the door behind him before stepping into the cool morning air.
The fresh breeze helped clear the last remnants of sleep from his mind, though the memory of the dream still clung stubbornly to him.
The walk to school was refreshingly normal. Cars rolled by. Students chatted as they walked in groups.
Nothing was on fire, and no monster shadows clawed at him from alleyways.
For once, he appreciated the mundanity.
By the time he reached the school gates, he felt almost normal again.
Almost.
He made his way through the halls, slipped into his classroom, and sank into his seat with a long exhale.
His backpack thudded lightly on the floor beside him.
And with that, the class officially began with Mr. Murakami entering the room.
The lesson began as usual, Mr. Murakami's voice rolling across the classroom. Hiro tried to focus, letting the words wash over him.
History, math, literature… it didn't matter.
Today, he wasn't learning anything new, just the normal, slow flow of information that he probably wouldn't use later.
"…And so, when the policy was enacted, the economic impact was—"
Hiro's eyelids grew heavy. The dream from this morning had taken more out of him than he realized.
The memory of everything he saw clawed at the edges of his mind, leaving him winded.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for just a moment.
"Mr. Katsuhisa?"
Hiro jerked upright. A few classmates snickered. Mr. Murakami's gaze landed squarely on him.
"…Uh—" Hiro rubbed the back of his neck.
He opened his notebook, pretending to be following along. Words swam in front of his eyes before he landed on the page. "The… the economic impact was… significant?"
"Try again," Mr. Murakami prompted, calm but firm.
Hiro swallowed. His mind raced, sifting through the lecture. Something clicked. "It caused a shift… in… production? Trade…?"
"Close enough," Murakami said, nodding once.
"That's on the right track. Keep thinking in terms of cause and effect."
Hiro exhaled quietly, relief washing over him.
He sank back into his chair, letting his focus drift again, eyes closing this time a little longer.
The hum of the classroom, the scratch of pens, the soft shuffle of pages, it was almost like a lullaby.
And for the first time today, he allowed himself to rest.
Minutes passed. The teacher's voice continued to echo softly, giving Hiro just enough time to let the dream's grip fade.
In no time, the bell finally rang, signaling the end of morning classes. Hiro stepped into the cafeteria, scanning the bustling room for a place to sit.
Students moved between tables, trays clattering, voices rising and falling in a familiar, chaotic rhythm.
"Hey, Hiro!"
Haruto waved him over from a corner table where a few others from the club were already seated.
Hiro made his way through the crowd and slid into the open seat beside Haruto.
"You made it," Mei said warmly, giving him a small smile.
Hayato, completely absorbed in his pudding, barely looked up but gave a casual wave.
Fubuki leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with concern as she took a good look at Hiro. "Are you… Okay?" she asked softly.
Hiro hesitated for a moment, then gave a faint nod. "Yeah… I'm fine," he said, though the lingering tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
"Good," Fubuki replied, letting her gaze linger for just a moment longer before returning to her tray.
The group fell into a simple rhythm, voices low and conversation light, the ordinary sounds of lunch filling the surrounding space.
"Hey man," Haruto said, leaning back in his chair and giving Hiro a teasing nudge. "Did you bring the thing?"
Hiro reached into his bag, pulling out the DecaDriver replica he had painstakingly crafted when he was younger. Haruto's eyes widened, and a grin split his face as he quickly leaned closer to inspect it.
"Whoa… not bad," Haruto whistled, turning it over in his hands. "Haven't seen stuff like this since I was a kid. Does it… work? And make sounds too?"
Hiro's chest tightened with a mix of pride and excitement. "Heh, it's better if I show you."
He slipped the belt around his waist and opened up the top part of the replica.
From the sleeve of his jacket, he dramatically pulled out a card, holding it between two fingers like he was Masahiro Inoue in the flesh.
"I'm just a passing-through Kamen Rider. Remember that!" ("Tōrisugari no Kamen Raidā da. Oboete oke!") he declared.
He would then confidently shout, "Henshin!"
loud enough for a quarter of the cafeteria to hear,an awkward silence following as if his enthusiasm caught the attention of others for better or worse. He inserted the card into the driver and closed it from the sides.
The driver whirred, lights flickered, and "KAMEN RIDE: DECADE!" blared from the built-in speaker. Every sound cue was matched by a pose he had practiced.
Haruto let out a low whistle. "Oh… that's sick," he said, grinning ear to ear.
Hayato, still half-focused on his pudding, gave a casual thumbs-up. "Not gonna lie… that's pretty good. Just like the show."
Mei leaned forward eagerly, eyes sparkling. "Can I check it out?"
Fubuki groaned, placing a hand over her face. "Ugh… everyone's staring now," she muttered, though a small smile tugged at her lips. The quarter of people originally watching had doubled in size to half of the students, excluding the group. A faceless mob of eyes was the best way to describe it.
Hiro gave a small, self-conscious shrug, chest swelling with pride. It didn't matter to him how many people watched, just as long as someone appreciated his work.
After all the years he spent building it on his own, perfecting every detail, this moment of recognition, however small, felt like the best reward.
While Hiro, Haruto, Mei, and even Hayato chatted animatedly, Fubuki hovered, muttering under her breath and doing her best to keep their table from drawing attention anymore.
All the eyes watching them only had nearly the same mixed array of emotions: some looking in disgust at how a 16-year-old could be this loud and obnoxious, too interested eyes watching in the distance at Hiro's creation. There was nearly no true malice present… except in the eyes of a young man sitting by the window, reading a novel of literature. For a split second, Hiro noticed the guy's icy gaze locked on him as he left, an expression showing disgust, annoyance, and a general lack of interest in the current display unfolding.
The young man's eyes narrowed, and he scoffed, muttering something inaudible to himself.
Hiro, caught up in the excitement of showing off his replica, didn't want to focus on it too much. Haruto, oblivious to the tension building elsewhere, laughed and nudged him. "Man, you really nailed the sound effects, dude. Seriously, that was straight outta the show!"
Mei, eyes wide with excitement, leaned over again. "I want to see it again! Please do it one more time!"
Fubuki groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ugh… you two are going to get us all stared at," she muttered.
Half the people in the room began chattering, voices left and right in the area, with one loud enough for the edge of it to reach Fubuki: "Didn't know we still had kids present here? I assumed we had grown up past loudly playing with toys."
Fubuki's eyes widened slightly, and she leaned closer to Hiro, voice low. "Uh… you might want to, uh… tone it down a bit."
Hiro froze mid-laugh, finally noticing the intensity of the stare.
His chest tightened, and his face looked slightly nervous, which was strange because usually no one judging him could make him feel this way.
It wasn't just the fact that half the room was staring at him. It was the gaze of one person in the crowd; it was colder than the others. Something about the look made Hiro's stomach knot.
Haruto noticed it too, tilting his head suspiciously. "Uh… you okay, man? I don't think I've ever seen you make that expression unless it had to do with our club..."
Hiro swallowed, glancing off to see if he could find whose gaze it was that was so sharp. He could feel the weight of the crowd increase because of it, the judgmental atmosphere affecting Hiro as a result. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," he said, though the faint edge of tension betrayed his calm tone.
Meanwhile, the rest of the cafeteria carried on in blissful ignorance, the noise and chatter continuing as Hiro tried to shake off the sudden, unwelcome attention.
But that flash of disgust lingered in his mind, like a shadow creeping over the otherwise sunny morning.