A Nice Dream

When I woke up the day Shio ditched me, a text message was waiting on my phone’s lock screen, so early in the morning. I hadn’t even opened my eyes fully yet, but I was curious to see who might have sent it. It’s not an everyday thing that I get text messages nowadays.

It was from Shio.

“Heeey, Amichiii, are you free today? We could go to our fav place to grab something, whaddya say? Lemme know asap, Luv. S”

I blinked a few times. That’s… unusual. Like extraordinarily unusual. It’s the weekend, and she doesn’t have plans with Kaneko? I had to reread the message, squinting as if the words would suddenly change into something more believable.

Anyway, I slid my thumb across the screen and started typing.

“Morning! Don’t you have plans with Kaneko by any chance?”

I didn’t intend for it to sound sarcastic or anything, but there was definitely a drop of it behind those words—especially after what happened yesterday. My phone instantly popped up with the little typing bubbles bouncing on the screen.

“Hajime??? Why would I have plans with him? I mean, he’s a nice guy and we’re good friends, but you’re my bestie and I wanna hang out with you, so???”

I sat up straight in bed. What? Is she joking? What does she mean he’s a nice guy and they’re just good friends? Is it really that early in the morning that I’m hallucinating?

I typed back quickly.
“Are you on drugs or what? What do you mean you’re just friends? He’s your boyfriend as far as I’m aware. You ditched our plans yesterday for him, duh.”

Her reply came almost instantly. How can she type so fast…

“Babe, what are YOU talking about? Did I text you too early? Are you still half-asleep? And by boyfriend, what do you mean? Is it like a trendy new word for male friends? ’Cause then yes, of course he’s my boyfriend. But today I wanna hang out with my girlfriend—is that a word for girl besties? ANYWAY, get your ass up, wash your cute little face, and meet me at YYP for breakfast. OK?”

I stared at my phone for a while, not knowing what the hell was going on. I honestly didn’t understand what she was saying. She was acting like the term boyfriend was some foreign word I’d made up. It must be a prank. I mean, she couldn’t just have amnesia all of a sudden.

But then it hit me while I was brushing my teeth, the strong taste of mint making my brain work just a little bit faster. I was dreaming. I had to be dreaming. That’s what this was. Yesterday I went to bed so pissed off at her—and Kaneko—so angry at this whole love-obsessed, friend-ditching world, that my brain must’ve conjured up this alternate reality where Kaneko was just a boy-friend and I was the priority. Yeah, that made sense. I’ve been having these weirdly realistic dreams more and more lately, so I should have realized it sooner.

Fine. Whatever. If it’s a dream, I should at least enjoy it to the fullest, right? It was kind of refreshing to see Shio put me first for once. I could definitely get used to this.

I quickly put on some mascara, my most comfortable go-to outfit—a simple but pretty black maxi dress with my Dac Mortoons platform boots—and headed out. YYP, aka Yume’s Yumm Pub, was our spot—the most delicious vegan brunch you could ever dream of. It existed in the real world too, and I often went there, spending my alone time listening to the calming background music while sipping matcha slowly, reading a book or scrolling on TakTak.

The second I stepped inside YYP, I felt it. It was different from reality. The whole place had this livelier atmosphere. People were actually talking to each other in groups instead of being glued to their other halves, whispering about their future plans. Even the baristas weren’t flirting with the hottest customers but smiling and chatting with everyone like we were all old friends. There was this buzz of genuine connection in the air, not that desperate, flirty undertone that always gave me the ick.

After taking in the atmosphere, I looked around and found Shio sitting by a window, waving wildly like an idiot, already with company. She was chatting with a boy and a girl I didn’t know. The boy was kind of short, wearing baggy clothes that made him look even tinier, and his long, healthy-looking blond hair was dyed and styled perfectly. His nails were painted black, and he had mascara on. The girl was ordinary-looking but cute, with a frilled top and a maxi skirt. Her short, chestnut-brown hair framed her face, and her eyes—orange-toned and almost glowing—were stunning.

I walked over, and before I could say anything, Shio jumped up and hugged me tight.

“Amiii, finally you got here! Have you woken up yet? Look, I got a double espresso for you—come, sit down. This is Hiroyuki-chan,” she pointed at the guy, “and this is Miya-chan.” She pulled the girl into a side hug as if they’d been best friends for years.

The strangers smiled and hugged me too. Hugged. Me.
“Nice to meet you, Ami-chan!!” they said in perfect chorus.

I couldn’t help grinning. This was exactly what I was talking about. Everybody warm and welcoming, wanting to get to know you, wanting to spend time with you. Calling you by your given name and slapping a “-chan” on it right away. I loved it.

We chatted for a while—random stuff, nothing serious—but then Hiroyuki and Miya had to leave for some music gig, ’cause apparently they were in a band. They invited us to their next big show. I didn’t tell them it was only a dream for me, so I probably wouldn’t see them again.

Since it was just me and Shio now, I asked what her plans were. Even though I knew it was a dream, there was this ache in my chest. Nostalgia mixed with longing. Shio used to be the most fun-loving, crazy girl I knew before Kaneko happened. She dragged us girls to karaoke, to sleepovers, to silly late-night convenience store runs. She was the soul of our group, always full of ideas. And in the real world, that spark was gone. But here she was, her eyes sparkling again, ready for adventure.

“I was thinking about going to the museum to see that new photo exhibition about human connections by that famous photographer… you know who I mean, I just can’t remember his name, uhhh…” She scrunched her face, trying hard to remember, but the name didn’t come.

I laughed. “It sounds interesting. Wanna grab a beer after?”

“Yes, that sounds superb! And we could even go to that jazz bar we found a few years ago, remember?” I swear I hadn’t seen her this excited in forever.

“Totally! Let’s do it!”

We ended up at the museum, wandering through the exhibition. Huge photos of people laughing, playing together—different cultures, different ages. But not one single photo hinted at romance. No kissing couples, no wedding shots. No kids tossed in the air. Just people. Friends, siblings, strangers connecting. I stood in front of one photo of two old women playing chess in a park, their eyes crinkled in laughter, and my throat tightened. That was love. Not the kind that breaks you, but the kind that keeps you standing.

Shio and I made up fake backstories for the people in the photos, giggling, having the time of our lives. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like, to laugh with her without tension, without fighting about Kaneko’s jealousy. I decided right there: I’d try to wake her up in the real world. This dream showed me how happy she could be—how happy we could be—if she just broke it off with him.

Later, we grabbed some well-deserved beers at a pub near the river. After a whole liter each, we decided to skip the jazz club and save it for another time. Beer always makes you tired, and apparently, it’s the same even in dreams. I didn’t want the time to end, but my body was sluggish, my eyes heavy, yawns slipping out nonstop.

When we finally hugged goodbye, I held her tighter and longer than usual, because I knew there wouldn’t be a tomorrow for us. I wanted to feel it a little longer, while I still could.

I walked home slowly, memorizing every second of this amazing dream. When I got back, I took off my boots, brushed my hair, washed off my makeup, and even put my phone on the charger—like it mattered. I slipped under the sheets, closed my eyes with one last wish: please, let me never wake up from this.

But of course, I did.

BRRRrrrr!!! BRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRrRRRRRrrrRR!!!

The moment I opened my eyes, shutting off my annoying alarm, sadness crashed down on me. I reached for my phone, even though I knew the photos we’d taken in my dream wouldn’t be there. I opened my gallery. Empty. It would be empty.

Except—the photos were there.

All of them. Us at YYP. Us at the museum in front of the ladies playing chess. Us with beers, posing with the river and the sunset behind us.

They were on my real phone.

Was I still dreaming?