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'Heavy.'
A single ray of thought, heavy as lead, surfaces in the darkness.
'Cold.'
Piercing through the thin layer, brushing and seeping into his skin, stealing every warmth he had, or maybe never had.
Silence reigns as he sank further. Only the muffled rhythm and ambience of the depth, left to feel.
Like a candle in deep water, the thought gutters and nearly drowns.
Then, after a while, amidst the chaotic background of the water, something drifted into his ears, a different noise.
"Ha.. Hahah.." Intermittent and small, a laughter that rings like a bell. The moment it appeared, something seemed to stir up inside him, a swirl of void.
The thought that threatens to fall has now begun to clear up once more in response to the whisper.
"…eat…your..food…" as the words were uttered, his body was trembling.
In a chain reaction, the unresponsive and stiff body begins its struggle, the eyes closed shut are rapidly moving beneath the pale eyelids.
The chaotic ambience of the deep had become a horrific lullaby. The water that is flowing freely is also binding him like mud.
His once-peaceful face is now distorted as the whisper continues in his mind: "Get up, Akane!" Uncompromising in his will, his piece of clarity grasps the words like a straw.
At long last, everything receded, the heaviness and also the water. Arriving on the shore or land, he should be, the tide of water sounded in his ears.
Standing on his two feet, his eyes are still glued shut, but the earlier coldness is slowly melting away, replaced by creeping warmth to his thin stature.
And only now, then, can he finally hear it clearly. It is a familiar feeling, a giggling of a young girl, soft, hearty, like a bell in this darkness.
The once restless closed eyes are now calm. He felt the warmth and heard the sound of waves crashing against the shore, hitting his bare feet.
The voice is getting closer and closer, laughter and a crackling sound, shadowing the waves. Light began to shine, piercing through the darkness of his eyelids.
Amidst this chaotic light, he slowly opened his eyes and saw.
Tranquil scene, morning light shone from the window and fell upon the table. The buzzing sound of the television, as the news anchor narrated the state of the world.
The smell of food wafted to his nose, feeling the warmth of his hand above the table, in contrast to the dampness and wetness of the sea earlier.
"Aya-nii!!! Why do you have to take my share?" A loud noise crashed into his ears as he instinctively focused his gaze on the opposite side of his seat, his dry lips trembling.
Sitting on the dining chair along with him is a petite figure, sky-blue eyes with white hair and a side blue ribbon, his little sister Irina, and beside him is…
His twin older brother, with short black hair and sky-blue eyes, Ayato, is teasing her in the right seat, stealing her food.
The two are doing their usual banter, and Ayato is with the same mischief; it is like a usual morning livelihood.
He is back to the usual morning, wearing a school uniform, and goes to school with them, or so it could be like this forever.
Akane's gaze, his ashen eyes, were trembling. 'It hurts…' suffocating, it is suffocating, his chest is in pain, something is trying to claw itself out.
Then, as if he remembered something, his head snapped up in the direction of the kitchen, bypassing his siblings. It is an expectation and also a certainty.
There is a silhouette, standing, wearing an office suit. The same white hair reaching her waist, from the side of her profile, she exuded a soft and bubbly atmosphere.
Humming and swaying her body slightly while slowly stirring a cup of coffee, as if noticing a gaze, she stops in confusion and turns her head in his direction.
Sky-blue eyes locking his ashen eyes, "Hey, what are you daydreaming about, Akane! You don't want to be late again, do you?" she said sternly as she noticed her son is silent and apparently did not eat his food.
But then again, those eyes can't hide the overflowing tenderness and love behind them. Ignoring him, she turns back towards the prepared coffee and walks toward the sofa.
His eyes trembled at the reprimand, one hand clutching his chest, and he bit his lips hard; despite everything, he didn't do anything. His hazy eyes were following her figure to the sofa, until a man came into his vision.
Wearing traditional attire, donned his upper body in a black kimono and white hakama at the bottom. Black messy hair reaching his neck, a few strands are strangely tied to the side, exuding a mysterious charm.
He is leaning on the backrest, with ashen eyes fixed on the television, unaware of what he thinks, until a voice sounds right in his ear, "This is your coffee."
Akane is looking towards the two of them, as his mother then sat by his side, while his father is pinching her cheek for her mischievousness.
The two complement each other.
Unconsciously, tears are sliding down his cheeks, he focuses his gaze on the two of them, burning it down to his memory as he clenched his chest hard.
Then he reluctantly moved his gaze, looking at the entire room and its scene. Sitting in silence, he did not reach out for anything, just like a passing bystander.
And yet, even he is afraid of parting, that everything will disappear as he closes his eyes. But in the end… in just a blink, everything disappears, replaced by the coldness and horror.
Gazing at the cracked ground, the tears have dried up, still as silent as he ever was or needed to be, unmoved or maybe can't be moved by anything anymore.
Raising his head a bit, slowly but surely, a body came into his vision.
Passing through the shoulder of his brother, lying down on this cold ground, it was his mother. A hole in her stomach, blood flowing down.
He felt an arm wrapping around his body tightly, with the unconscious Irina squeezed between them, as if determined to protect everything in his palm.
He let the light burn his eyes; the lifeless and hazy, bloody-ashen eyes were looking towards their source. Ruins of steel jungle covered the crater around them.
A shadow moving swiftly, a monstrous sight comes into view. Black dragon, alone against the undulating darkness of horror, the sky was torn open further like a gash.
The dragon's reptilian eyes seem to coincide with those hazy, bloody-ashen eyes below, despite the great distance, and Akane, too, can understand it.
There is madness in those gray-ashen eyes, but largely, there is a pang of guilt inside, watching the despair of his son and the death of his wife.
So…
Opening his jaw slightly, a voice resounded in Akane's mind, "I'm sorry for being a failure, Akane…."
Thus it spoke, opening his jaw further as darkness condenses, "[Authority of Layer and Filament: Cascade Process - Overflow Substance Rupture]".
He did not throw it outward. He closed his jaw and kept it.
Everything crumpled in an implosion, tearing apart everything in its range like paper to compress a core of darkness, then a silver lightning blasted everything apart, exploding outwards.
The world is slowing down at the moment, and Akane decides to close his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by a light that burns like a shadow.
There is no scream, nor pain for him, everything went silent as it should be. Vaguely, he heard a hollow howl, but it then disappeared too.
He seems to be back at the beginning, falling into the endless depths as his fate. This time, he did not struggle and sank in.
"What remains shall remain, burdened by its own 'Mysteries' and 'Destiny', you shouldn't handle it." A grand voice of a thousand choirs rang, echoed across the deep, as three doors stood above the dark sea.
Images flashed into his mind.
In this moment, pain radiated all over his body.
Again, this time, the heaviness is actively pulling him to the depths.
Consumed by the darkness.
The Dream is Dead.
—————
Eyes shot open, chest rose and fell as he gasped for air. The scenery is blurry, and a bright light is blinding his vision simultaneously. His mind is still stuck in the darkness.
Clutching the sheet that covered his body, his eyes winced, ears ringing from the sound of the tide. Phantom pain assaulted his body; he felt his lungs were burning, and every breath was a pain.
His distorted face, sweat sliding off his cheek, facing the unknown ceiling in silence. For a while, only the sound of breathing echoed in this room.
The blurry ceiling sometimes overlapped and disappeared like a mirage, like he was looking through broken glass; three doors stood in silence above the dark sea, waving to him.
As time passes for a while in this tranquility, breath gradually stabilized. With the returning clarity and function of his body, the mirage dissipated like a mist.
Unknowingly, the pale hands have loosened their grip from the white sheet and fallen to the side powerlessly, a relief, confirmation of his returning condition.
The white curtain blows from the side, fluttering through his vision that's adapting to the light, turning his head stiffly to the open window on the side. Tender breeze caresses his cheek, compelling his eyes to a slit.
The sun is high above, light is partially covered by drifting clouds. Despite this, some weak light manages to pierce down to the window. It's not entirely warm, nor cold.
There it is, an unfamiliar sight of a city in the distance. Gradually, the sound and the pain also receded by themselves, leaving him in this peaceful silence.
Before long, he takes back his hazy and lifeless eyes. Turning his head stiffly to look over the clean room, sterile and fresh air wafted to his nose.
Still, the world seems so distant and distasteful to him right now, even with this tactile sensory feeling, it's just all felt like a children's painting, monotone and gray.
To the right, there is a fresh flower vase above the desk on the side, which seems vibrant and in contrast to his self. Though he gazes past it, noticing one particular thing, a heart monitor beside the desk.
Unknown of what he thinks, eyes looking back to their original position, looking down towards the white sheet, unresponsive like a statue.
His throat is a bit dry, and his body feels so foreign to him. Then, looking over the door to the right, fingers twitching, for a second, the crimson seems to gleam and be active.
Moving his gaze back to the monitor, he specifically looks towards the jumping data on the screen, which is beating and active, continuous even at this moment.
He tried to lift his hands groggily, feeling the disconnection between parts of his body, like a puppet or a rusty gear.
As if sensing something, deep inside the void in his own heart, a ripple appeared. Crimson light shining across the depth, his stabilized mind is now beginning to waver, wandering in a more unsettling direction.
Then his head moved from the monitor to look over the whole room, as he could feel it. This gray and colorless world is bleeding, and gradually, it is pulsing, beating, imitating his dead heart.
His breathing began to quicken, anxiety crept inside him, and negative thoughts arose with the sound of the tide. Pain appears once more, forcing him to look down at his hands.
A hint of red began to appear at the edge of his vision, swirling like a thread from the depths. His knuckle is bleeding, its muscle splintered, its nail torn apart.
Red blood flows down from the broken flesh, dyeing the white sheet red. The pain stings through his mind, burning and throbbing with contact in the air.
His throat is burning, his dry lips are cracked, as he grimaces in pain. Gradually the boundary between reality and illusion begins to blur, 'perhaps I have never woken up at all, right?'
With this thought, the straws seemed to break, and the world went silent.
Then…
A sound, small, appears in this empty world, the buzzing gets louder as it is closer and closer, a footstep is disturbing this silence. The door handle clicks, and swings open.
The red in his vision receded as the noise broke this silence, along with the illusion, again, like a black mist. His breath steadied once again, and the pain also disappeared in the blink of an eye.
His eyes flicked to the corner of his eyes. He had already registered the footstep from the moment it appeared, as there should be a hospital staff member in charge, dismissing them as non-threatening.
And now, his face slowly clicked back to calmness, examining the state of his hands earlier. Rubbing the two palms together, there is now warmth in there, only pale and frosty, just like the hand of a corpse.
As he is examining his hands in silence, a cough sounds in his ears. "Cough, are you okay? What do you feel right now? Do you feel sick somewhere?" The doctor's voice rang beside him, which made him raise his head and turn to the side.
An aged doctor, with slicked white hair to the back, and hands on the side. He did not rush to answer, only staring in silence for a moment, and finally, his dry lips moved open.
"I'm fine…" and as he answered it, a silhouette came into view from behind the doctor, faraway at the side of the nurse who is checking the heart monitor rate.
She is walking slowly, passing the nurse and arriving beside the doctor. Wearing a blue blouse, a white casual shirt, and a black knee-length skirt, her hair white hair draped over her shoulders, her face is anxious, but there is also a relief inside those sky-blue eyes.
And she also saw him, too, a boy and a child of her sister. Compared to the lazy, bored, and free-spirited boy of the past… his eyes were hazy, bloody, and ash, the face is expressionless and soulless.
Biting her lips inward, she knew that there was something wrong, but for now… 'He is back.' And that's all she needed to know, so she had to smile, for her sister and him.
And for him, Akane, it is surely a familiar face, for everything that happens like yesterday. Unknowingly, the tide reappeared once again, oblivious to all presence.
Absentminded, his eyes glued to that face, ignoring everything. Something seems to break apart like a mirror; he did not reject it, even though it pains and hurts.
Crimson bled into his gaze, for the first time, with trembling lips, he mustered a smile, a hollow and genuine smile.