Feels Like Waking from a Dream

Pitch darkness.

His body felt as though it floated in the void, yet none of his limbs would respond.

His mind lingered, wavering between dream and wake, but the harder he tried to rise, the deeper he sank into the abyss.

And amidst that endless dark, an image emerged, projected directly into his thoughts.

A silver-haired man smiled as he spoke:

“Everything is born white… or was it?”

The question pierced straight into his mind, echoing within him. And just as he began to grasp its meaning―

“…!”

Where… is this?

An unfamiliar sight unfolded before Ayato.

An endless meadow stretched as far as the eye could see. A gentle breeze swayed the leaves of trees. A clear, cloudless sky completed the world with its blue.

Yet none of it was familiar to Ayato.

“What actually happened? What am I doing here? A dream? Ouch―”

His head throbbed sharply the moment he tried to recall what happened before.

“It feels like something is― ow ow ow!”

The pain only grew worse the more he forced himself to remember.

“This headache… it’s strange. Unnatural! But before anything else… I should probably find a safe place first.”

Whether by instinct or something deeper, Ayato felt he had to leave the open meadow. After all, it wasn’t wise to remain in one place without knowing what lurked around him.

Still, wandering aimlessly with no clear destination would be pointless. He took a moment to check his own condition while scanning the surroundings.

His hands moved normally, his legs could walk without pain, his body felt fresh—and he was still clad in his school uniform and blazer. Yet each time he stretched his fingers, a strange sensation rippled through them.

My hands… why do they feel…

“Argh!” The stabbing pain in his head flared again, and for a brief moment, Ayato’s hands seemed drenched in blood.

Was it just my imagination? Forget it—better to focus on my surroundings.

Ayato pushed the thought aside, forcing his mind away from the sudden headache, and concentrated on scanning the area once more.

“As far as I can see, only grasslands… and a path leading into the forest. Hmm, entering the forest at a time like this doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

He squinted at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. Hesitation weighed on him—should he stay, or risk venturing into the forest unprepared?

“What should I do? Staying here might make it easier to find help if I really ended up stranded because of an accident or something… but every attempt to recall only brings pain. And entering the forest without preparation, that’s a bit―”

GROWL.

“No other choice, huh?”

With a heavy heart, Ayato finally stepped into the forest.

He didn’t plunge straight into its depths; instead, he lingered near the entrance, hoping to find something edible. But as time dragged on, hope soured into disappointment, pushing him further inside.

As the sunlight waned, his vigilance sharpened. He had no intention of dying foolishly—certainly not from carelessness, and even less from hunger.

Step by cautious step, he ventured deeper, unease and fear clinging to his back like shadows.

The deeper I go, the harder it is to see… Well, no surprise—the trees smother the light with their thick leaves. Damn… only now do I regret never studying survival. But who would ever expect to be cast into a forest like this without reason…

Grumbling inwardly, Ayato kept his focus on the uneven ground. His slippers made each step clumsy, but it was still better than bare feet.

Hmm? What’s that…

Soon he spotted a small creature, like a rabbit, with piercing green eyes. His pace slowed, careful, deliberate.

Alright, how do I catch it? I don’t even know if I can cook it, but at least it would be food. Could I really do this barehanded? Maybe if I throw a stone…

As he searched for something to use, their eyes met.

Ah.

The rabbit’s green eyes widened in alarm.

“Wait! Stop right there!”

The rabbit bolted instantly.

“Damn it! Stop, food― I mean, rabbit!”

Ayato shouted desperately, as though the small rabbit could understand human words and willingly offer itself up.

“Stupid rabbit! Stop runni― Uaaaagh!”

His foot caught on a rope hidden beneath the dry leaves. In an instant, his body was hurled upward by the force of a bent tree, held down with a wooden peg.

The world spun upside down, and slowly, several figures emerged—furry creatures standing upright like men.

Their eyes glared sharply, unblinking, and their mouths were puckered into round “O” shapes framed by thick, rubbery lips. Their bodies, heavy with fur and long-armed like orangutans, carried an eerie resemblance to apes—yet unlike those solitary beasts, they clustered together as if forming a hunting pack.

“Kdwajdiajdawdkjakw, adjwiawd?”

“Keiadjwidwkjanwu, awdjial dwaiadja dawidj.”

Their speech was strange—not human, or perhaps simply their own tongue.

“Uh, hello everyone? Sorry, it seems there’s been a little mistake here!”

Ayato gambled on the chance that these creatures could be reasoned with, but in the end, he lost the bet.

“I didn’t mean―”

“IASDAIUDBNWAAKS ADWUHNAWDAKJ!”

“ADWAWDIAKDJIS AJIDWJI!”

One of them barked suddenly, its tone harsh. The others grew rowdy and began pelting Ayato with stones. Panic surged through him as he realized how bizarrely they reacted.

“W-Wait! We can talk thi―”

Until one of the stones struck his head, tearing away his consciousness.

“Where… am I?!”

A strange, acrid scent dragged him back to awareness. His arms and legs were bound tight with vine-like ropes. No matter how fiercely he struggled, they refused to yield. The ache from the stone that had struck him now spread through every nerve, his skull pounding with each pulse.

“What is actually hap…”

Ayato’s words faltered as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him. The furry creatures danced in wild delight around a roaring bonfire.

But what froze his breath was not their laughter—

it was the realization that he was the centerpiece of their revelry.

“You’ve got to be kidding me… This is a lie, right? A LIE, RIGHT!?”

Because he was not a guest to their feast—

he was the feast itself.