Recovery

It is dream tiem. Cumhaill is see himself as very young. Like probebly five or something. He stand at shrine to stare at cool ornamets and art of many strange god creatures. It is the smae temple as where live rn.

The feeling of a voice calling for him was felt, and it acrivat the same sense as though it his mother. When he turned there was no body there, but it called for him again. He ran tort voice until he tripped and fell on his face, causing him to wake up, but only to another dream.

His father and mother, both tall cus he is only five and he didn’t bother too look any higher than their legs, we’re standing at the entrance to the home. They were putting on shoes in the mud roo, and speaking to Cumhail in muffled voice.

All was muffled except one line. “We’ll be back in time for dinners.” His father patted hims on his little stupid head.

The parents exit and shut door behind them, the last Cumhaill remember of them. To his side is little sister as smalll toddler, just crawl beside him. 

In that moment of dream, Cumhaill split into two of himself. The memory version that walks back into house to play with little sister while wait for parents, and the version in dream he control now that’s go for the shutted door, desperate to see parents again or prevent from leave. 

To his sad thought, opening the door would not bring them to life. These parents are perma dead af lol. Instead, when the door open he onnly find himself entering the shrine, because it’s cool one that you can go inside of and it has tatami mat floors n shit. There he is presented many more cool ornament but what take center stage is a katana rack for holding Katanas.

Cumhaill recalls in dream that the katana rack was always empty and had enough slot for three katanas, but he also got dream shiver realizing the current moment.

It is the day that he learn about his parents dead.

“That is where he goes boy.” Said an old frail voice from his side. 

The voice belong to a servant of the temple who work under his parents for many years, even serving the previous shrine holder generations. His name isn’t given cus not really important to this epic story, just remember him as the old fuck. 

In Cumhaill arms is a single sheathed katana that look very cool and big dangerous. With it, he walks ceremoaniously toward the katana rack.

"That's it boy," said the old fuck. "Now place it at the top."

Cumhail lifts the katan way up so it can sit in the rack's uppermost slot. He leaves it there and steps back to admire the sight.

"Well done. Oh," The old fuck's voicei s trembling through pain. "You've honored your parents legacy today, but I'm afraid ngh... this is the last we can do, orwell, the last I can guide you through."

The old fuck takes seat in chair and the set of the dream contorts into the living room.

"I've grown far too old to care for this place and for you two, so I've come in contact with a close family frie—" 

The dream is melting away, interrupting the old fuck's speech, and a sharp pain is felt in Cumhaill arm. He look down at it, and it is covered in shards of mirror. From each piece of mirror, the reflection slowly fades as its reflective properties are transferred to his arm, leaving only glass.

The sight makes him scream. "AHH!" He screams, and in that moment he awoke from the dream.

He is in bed now, tucked under big comfy blanket, while the arm that he used to punch the mirror is out and wrapped in many bandages from fingertip to chest. Beside his bed is Marce, who is sleeping as though waiting for him to wake up, but fail cus it been so long. The sight is very kawaii and so he  uses his not minced up hand to pat her on the cranium. 

The pat wakes up Marce and she yawns. "Big butter?"

When she sees that Cumhaill is woke, she lifts her head and rubs her eyes to be sure.

Cumhaill grins. "Good morning lil piss."

"Mornin'," She stretches. "I'm so glad you are fine. Yesterday was a scare."

"Yea, my apologies. I don't know what I was think." Cumhaill pawses to hmm about somethink. "What do be the time right now?" He looksies at the big clock on wall.

The clock reads later than when school starts. Oh shit.

"Oh shit I got to go to school!" He rushes to take his blankie off, but Marce stops him. "What are you doing sis? I got to go stundy and do school or else I wont become doctor."

"No-no, do not even think about leaving bed." Marce shoved him back into bed easily cus he is puny nerd. "I called in that you were injured and will be out for remander of week, and that I will stay to care for you."

"Ok..." Cumhaill easily gives in coz he never argue with sister and also a pussy.

"Good. Now I me go make brake fast."

While Marce is gone making delicious omelette rice with ketchup heart, Cumhaill sinks into his bed to further rest. He struggles to keep comfort or to get a bit more shuteye, and there’s nothing that feels like it needs to be eased. It’s as though he is completely energized and healed despite the injury. So, to investigate the strang feeling, he looks at his arm. 

The arm is wrapped in bandages of course, and there is stains of blood dried all over. He moves it in all motions to see if anything wong, but no result adds up.

“The very hrm strange…” he studies the motions while resting his chin between his other thum and peter finger. 🤔

***

Marce, whome is Hold trAy iN hands witH Plate of Omellete rice And A big Beatifol perfect Heart drawn On It with Kemchup (mmm),  walks up Stares to Get to Cumhaill Room.  When she Get to door She Does not knock And Opens very Fast.

“Big brothel, I have brought you my specialteeth omelette made wiff exfra love,” She squeals with excitement only to go hol up bruh moment when she see what the Cumhaill doing.

At the side of the bed, facing away from Marce, Cumhaill is seen with head down and his arm moving like if he jorkin his dingling. Of course that isn't what he doink cus he is good heart boy, but Marce woodn't know and so she scream.

She block her eyes with rice omelette "BIC™ lighter, you animal!"

Cumhaill looks back n forth comedically like "huh?" a few times while still seemingly zorkin' it. "Ah, sis don't worry, I'm almost finished."

Marce's soul has been sucked out of her. "i'm leaving..."

He grunts. "No sis, I want you to see."

She falls to knees and places omelette tray down so she can faint without making a mess. "So this is the really what my onii-brother has become..."

"Alright sis, take a good look at this." He stands ups and turns to face her.

Marce is mentally preparing self to handle situation without combusting, but it not for reason you—my reader—would totally ever expect maybe, coz this seemingly innocent sister is actually a huge motherfricken brocon, and this has been the moment she been waiting for. She clasps her hands together and tilts them to the side passionately for what she is to witness. 

Her eyes are wide open and glistening with glee. "Oh, baked brother, I thought this day would never come."

Freaky ass sister was droolin like crazy, but when she see what Cumhaill was actually trying to show her, those hopes n dreams were obliterated. See this whole time he was unwrapping his bandages to see what it looked like, and wanted to show that his arm appear strange and healed.

"You wrapped those bandages really good sis, but look at this, my arm is like a mirror... Mirror Arm." 

Just as he said it is, the arm that he punch the mirror with now looked to be a mirror finish with no smudges  They both looked at the distorted reflections of their faces in his arm completlely flabberblasted.

"Is this a dream?" Marce pinches herself and then feels his arm's mirror surface. "No. Way too real."

"That's what I was thinking when I first got a glimpse. This is some serious alien stuff."

"Do we calt the police?"

"Yea that sounds reasonable..." 

Cumhaill begins to sweat boolets thinkin about his situation while Marce whips out her phone and types the police numba. 

"No wait." He stops Marce from ringin the police. "Isn't this mean I'm gona get experimented on or something like I'm some kinta alien?"

"Well, yea? No way the governement isn't gonna study that thing."

"Agh..." Cumhaill palms his face. "Then I'm just never become doctor? As if. What would be the point of all my hard work? I'll just wrap it back up."

"Nah-ah, you can't do doctor with that thing attached to you. Besides, what if that stuff is some sorta deadly disease? At that point you got zero chance of solving any cancer."

"Tch... Guess I'll have to get the experimented on... I hate my stupid baka life..." Cumhaill hangs his head in the big sorrow.

"Don't worry onii-chang, I'll be with you no matter what, and I won't let them hurt you."

"Some experiments might involve hurt!"

"I won't let those experiments happen."

"Aw thanks sis."

The siblings hug as a touching moment before calling poliece, but once again before the call is made, they are rudely interrupted. 

"Aw hell naw." strange ominous deep dark voice from when mirror was punched returns.

"Excuse me?" Said Cumhaill, looking around for the sorce.

"You two aint puttin' me in some goddamn experiments," The voice continued. "Put that phone down before I ice you hoe."

"Big bro?" Marce looked back as if Cumhaill were the culprit.

"That's not me sis."

"Then who is it?"

"It's me."  The ominous voice speaks while Cumhaili's mirror arm punches himself in the testicals, causing him to fall in immense paining. "And that was on yo whole damn family, bitch."

"Onii-cum!" MAarce is spooked.

Cumhaill's voice goes from aggregated, "Show yourshelf foul creatAUGH! OUGH," to wheezing, "ooo my giblets."

When the two thought it couldn't get any weirder, Cumhaill's mirror arm lifted up as though puppeteering a sock. "Now ain't you two just dumb as hell. It's me. I'm the man in yo arm dawg."