“What just happened?” I asked myself in distress. My heart ached, and my mind felt sore. I was confused, I was lost, and I was uncertain. I had just woken up from a long tiring sleep. The haze was still fresh on my mind, but as I awoke, and stood, I saw that I was surrounded by carnage. All around me, in every direction I saw blood, bodies, and death. It was lingering all around me, a dark aura somehow intent on consuming me. I could see it, somehow. My heart was in a rage, and my feelings were confused. I felt that I had lost something important, and as I gazed across the rooms, my eyes met two certain bodies that were familiar. “Mom…? Dad…?” I asked myself as I crawled towards them, unbeknownst to my own situation. I looked at them, and looked at their faces. I was certain. My mother’s long black hair, and her face gentle face—the face that I had known. It was definitely her, I had no doubt. Then, I looked at my dad. I looked at the stern face that had attempted to discipline me, the one whom had tried to make me a man. They were both gone.
Suddenly, pain swarmed my heart as the memories returned one by one. Memories of the dark night, the frightening thunder, and the masked men whom had come to attack us, and then, my mother’s words. “Yoshiyuki, don’t die.” The haze that had drifted upon my mind before was slowly beginning to lift. At the same time, tears began accumulating within the tear ducts within my eye. I felt them welling up, and felt that they would soon overflow. And yet, as they did I felt no wetness upon my cheek, as if there was simply nothing there. I was scared.
In the midst of all this confusion, sadness and anger, something such as this only made matters worse. I did not understand, and then, I stood up to look at myself. I first lifted my hand, and looked at it. I saw not a hand of flesh and human blood; I did not see the usual skin-like tanned hue, but rather a silky translucent ghostly arm. Beyond my arm, I could see the floor—I was not alive. Or was I? I questioned it, once again returning my gaze to my surroundings. The bloodstained floor, and the deathly black that was death, was upon everything, everything but me. I was crying, I felt the sensation of my sadness overflowing within my heart, and I could feel the tears trying to leak out. However, I had no solid cheek for the tears to land—and it seemed that I did not have ‘physical’ tears either. I was crying, crying within my heart.
A sudden sound shook me. It was the opening of a door. I did not move. I was too scared, too confused, and the feelings had left me petrified. I then heard footsteps, climbing up the stairs, and approaching me. My parents were dead, there was no one else whom could have entered—and yet, someone was here. I did not know what to do; there was nothing that I could have done. I was frozen upon this very spot—fear and pain became glue that held me in this place. Soon, the footsteps stopped, and the knob twisted. As the door opened, I saw a small girl wander into the room. She was unfazed by the death and destruction that surrounded her. It was not that she had not noticed it—but rather, it seemed as if she had experienced it before, I could not tell, I could not understand. How was she not scared? “Are you… all alone too?” The voice of the small girl called out to me. Her voice was tinged with loneliness, tinged with sadness, and infested with despair. The girl had a small figure, and from what I could tell, she was just a bit taller than me. She was lonely—and she was sad, just as I was.
I still did not know how to respond, or what to do in response. But she asked if I was alone, and I nodded. I was alone. Upon seeing my response, her head shifted slightly and she looked me in the eye. Her short, red-brown hair shifted slightly, as she looked at me. Her azure blue eyes seemed to pierce me as I gazed into them. Her facial expression then turned from a frown, to a smile, and she stuck out her hand. “Then, why don’t you come with me?”
I was uncertain. I was translucent, I was unsure as to whether I was even alive. I did not know if I could reach out, I was unsure if I could reach her ‘warmth’ if I could still accept it. I was uncertain, and scared. My body—or rather my existence had become cold, cold and faint. I wasn’t sure if I could accept the warmth that she stretched out towards me. “What if my hand simply phases through her? What if we simply don’t connect?” I was scared, unbelievably scared. But somehow, her serene blue eyes, and her loving expression assured me. Then, as if she sensed by doubt, “Don’t be afraid.” She encouraged me, pushing me along, and before I knew it, I was looking directly in her eyes. I stretched out my hand without thinking, and grasped tightly upon hers. Tightly, ever so tightly, hoping that this girl would never let me go. Suddenly, the tears that I felt leaking out of my heart, began leaking out of my eyes, and dropping, wet, upon my cheeks. They trickled down, landing upon the floor.
Looking back at the bodies of my parents, I screamed loudly, crying. The tears dripped down my cheeks endlessly. I felt cold—I felt lost, I felt sad. However, someone warm beside me pulled me in. I was pulled into a hug. My face planted onto her shoulder, and I began to cry, I wrapped my arms around the strange girl whom had come to me, and she around me. She pat my back, she comforted me, and she allowed me to cry. I cried, and cried and cried, and continued to, for what seemed to be an eternity. But after, the two of us left that place together, hand in hand. We may have been alone before—but now, we had each other. “What’s your name?” The girl asked me the question as we walked forwards, towards the now rising sun.
“I’m… Yoshiyuki. Uhm… what’s yours?” I replied somewhat shyly, but she smiled and responded.
“I’m Yume.” She said the words with a bright smile. The smile somehow brightened my day, and somewhat unknowingly, I murmured the words,
“Yume… Yume onee-sama.”
 Onee-sama is a Japanese honorific, it is a respectful way to say ‘big sister.’