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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, his 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…" 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!"
The voice pulled him upward, towards the warmth, even if he believed it no longer existed.
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 in his thin stature.
And only now, then, can he finally hear it clearly. It is a familiar feeling, someone is giggling: a young girl, soft, hearty, like a bell in this darkness.
The once restless closed eyes are now calm. He felt the warmth, 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, the warmth of his hand above the table in contrast to the dampness and wetness of earlier.
"Aya-nii!!! Why do you have to take my share?"
A loud noise crashed into his ears as he lifted his head, and his dim gaze fell on the opposite seat, his dry lips trembling.
Sitting on the dining chair along with him was a petite figure, sky-blue eyes with white hair and a side blue ribbon, his little sister Irina, and beside him is…
His twin brother, Ayato, has short black hair and sky-blue eyes. Now, teasing her in the right seat, stealing her food.
The two are in their usual banter, and his twin is the same mischief; it is like a usual morning, or it could be forever so.
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.
Unconsciously, tears are sliding down his cheeks.
Then, as if he remembered something, his head snapped up to the kitchen, past his siblings.
It is an expectation and also a certainty.
There is a silhouette standing in front of the counters in an office suit. Her white-silver hair reaches her waist; from the side, her profile exudes a soft, bubbly personality.
Humming a song while slowly stirring a cup of coffee, she then turns her body back towards and walks toward the sofa.
Choking, one hand clutching his chest, and he bit his lips hard; despite everything, he didn't do anything.
His distant eyes tracked her figure to the sofa until a man came into sight.
Wearing traditional attire, a black kimono on his upper body 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, his mother by his side, while his father pinched her cheek for her mischievousness.
The two complement each other.
Struggling to breathe, his gaze blurry, he focuses his gaze on the two of them, burning it down to his memory as he clenches his chest hard.
Then he reluctantly took 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, everything will disappear as he closes his eyes.
But in the end… in just a blink, a momentary darkness, everything truly 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.
Passing through the shoulder of his brother, lying 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.
Then he lifted his head to the sky, let the light burn his eyes; the lifeless and hazy, bloody-ashen eyes were looking towards their source.
Shadow moving swiftly, a monstrous sight comes into view in the sky.
A dragon's reptilian eyes coincide with those hazy, bloody-ashen eyes below, despite the great distance, and Akane, too, can understand it.
There is madness in those grey-ashen eyes, anger, wrath and guilt. So…
His jaw opened slightly, and a voice resounded in Akane's mind, Thus it spoke, opening his jaw further as darkness condenses,
"I'm sorry for being a failure, Akane…."
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.
The world is slowing down at the moment, and he decides to close his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by a light that burns like a shadow.
No scream, nor pain for him, everything went silent as it should be. A hollow howl echoes, then ceases.
*Splashhh*
Drowning.
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.
"As the contract should be, you choose to resist, for this… You may face a formidable enemy, an unknown made form itself"
"The Indescribable…"
A grand voice of a thousand choirs rang, like a string plucked for a thought and sentences, echoed across the deep, as three doors stood above the dark sea.
"Fear not, I'll witness your struggle till the very end…"
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 simultaneously. His mind is still stuck in the darkness.
Clutching the sheet to 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 white ceiling overlapped like a mirage, blending like a painting, as if he were looking through a broken glass. Three doors stood in silence above the dark sea, waving to him.
As time passed, the noise ceased, and tranquillity prevailed. His breath gradually stabilised. 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 to the light, 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, and light falls in a slant from the drifting clouds; some of it manages to come into this window, brought along. It's not entirely warm, nor cold.
There it is, an unfamiliar sight of a city in the distance. Then, gradually, the sound and the pain receded, 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, which smells sterile and fresh through his nose.
Still, the world seems so distant and distasteful to him right now; even with this tactile sensory feeling, like a children's painting, monotone and grey.
To the right, a fresh vase of flowers on the side of the bed, tilting its head, colourful flowers vibrant, in contrast to this bleak world.
Though he gazes past it, noticing one particular thing, a heart monitor beside it.
Unknown what he thinks, eyes are 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, his eyes seem to gleam and be agile.
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 a disconnected sensation between his body, like a puppet or a rusty gear.
As if sensing or assuming something, deep inside the void in his own heart. Ripple of his guess.
Crimson light shining across the depth, his stabilised 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 grey and colourless 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 gets closer and closer, and a footstep disturbs this silence. The door handle clicks and swings open.
Inhaling a heavy breath, his hands twitched. Is it bled? No, it didn't bleed. The illusion receded when the door opened.
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. Registering the steps as they appeared, the hospital staff member in charge confirmed his presence.
And now, 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, full of care… which made him raise his head and turn to the side.
An aged doctor, his white hair slicked back, hands on the side. For he did not rush to answer, only staring in silence for a moment, until finally, his dry lips agape.
"I'm fine…" he answered. And then, a silhouette came into view behind the doctor. She had been standing beside the nurse, checking the heart monitor.
She walked slowly, passing the nurse and standing beside the doctor. She finally saw him, a boy, her sister's child.
Compared to the lazy, bored, and free-spirited boy of the past… his eyes were blurry, bloody, and ash, the face was 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.
'Ah…'
And for him, Akane, it is surely a familiar face, overlapped with what he had been dreaming about.
The way she bites her lip, her crystal eyes welling with tears, with gleaming white-silver hair.
But in the end… it is not her.
"Ah…"
Mouth parted, his dry throat choked, heart aching, for everything seems like yesterday. Unknowingly, the tide reappeared again, oblivious to all presence.
Absentminded, biting his lips, his eyes glued to that face, ignoring everything.
Something seems to break apart like a mirror; he does not reject it, even though it pains and hurts.
For the first time, with trembling lips, he mustered a smile, a hollow and genuine smile.
"A… un… ti…"
Before he finished, the word stuck in his throat, his dry eyes welled. Something bled from the depth, recognition of absence.
Sobbing in his ears, he felt the warmth on his chest, the embrace on his back.
"Finally… finally… you're awake…after nine months…!"