"Ugh..."
I grimaced, wiping at my arms again, though there was nothing actually there. The sticky, clammy sensation still clung to my skin like a bad mory.
Even though I knew it wasn’t real—just an illusion conjured inside a dream—the disgust refused to fade.
I let out a low groan and shook my head, trying to scrub the feeling away from my mind.
Dreams.
They’re strange things—reflections of the subconscious, twisted and raw. The hidden corners of a person’s mind laid bare.
In dreams, people show what they never would in reality. Their fears. Their desires. The things they’d rather die than admit aloud.
That’s why dreams are both fascinating and horrifying. They’re the deepest abyss of a person’s heart.
And staring into soone else’s abyss... isn’t sothing you co out of feeling clean.
"...Damn it."
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
The images from monts ago flashed across my mind again, vivid as ever.
Tentacles.
I’d heard of that genre before. Knew that it existed. And I knew—unfortunately—that there were people out there who genuinely enjoyed it.
But seeing it firsthand, in full 3D, up close and personal?
Yeah. That was a whole new level of psychological damage.
I ran a hand down my face, exhaling through clenched teeth.
It’s my own fault. No one told to go poking around in soone else’s dream.
Still, knowing that doesn’t make it any less... horrifying.
Having those kinds of tastes isn’t wrong, sure. People are free to dream about whatever they want.
But next ti... I’m triple-checking the target before diving in.
Because right now?
Just thinking about it makes nauseous.
I shook my head, trying to shake off the lingering fragnts of the previous mory, and slowly took in my surroundings.
Where... am I this ti?
The place looked like a garden—lush, elegant, and ticulously kept. Roses climbed marble trellises, fountains shimred under soft sunlight, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers. It looked like sothing straight out of a noble’s estate.
But this was no real garden.
This was a dream.
And not far away—
"Sniff..."
My gaze shifted to a small figure sitting on the grass, hugging her knees tightly. A girl. She was trembling, her quiet sobs echoing faintly through the still air.
I hesitated.
After what I had just gone through, I couldn’t help but be cautious—even toward sothing as innocent-looking as a crying child. In dreams, appearances ant nothing.
Still, seeing no writhing tentacles or grotesque monsters lurking in the corners this ti, I decided to approach her carefully.
Could she be... the owner of this dream?
"What are you doing here?" I asked gently, keeping my voice low.
There are a few unspoken rules when wandering through soone’s dream.
You don’t harm the drear.
And you never let them realize they’re dreaming.
If they do, the illusion collapses, and they’ll wake up imdiately.
Other than that, conversation was fair ga.
The girl flinched at my voice. Slowly, she raised her head and looked at —her eyes wide and wary, shimring with tears.
"W-Who... are you?"
Her voice was soft, trembling. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old.
She had a small, delicate face frad by light gray hair that glimred faintly in the sunlight, and her round brown eyes watched with a mix of fear and curiosity.
And then it hit .
’Wait... this face...’
For a mont, I just stared. That gray hair. Those eyes. That expression.
’Viola...?’
The resemblance was uncanny. She looked exactly like Viola—my fiancée—only younger. It was like looking into a mory that wasn’t mine.
’Could this be her dream?’
I wasn’t completely certain. It was possible that this was soone else’s dream, and Viola had simply appeared within it.
But sothing deep inside —an instinct I couldn’t explain—whispered otherwise.
No... this dream belonged to her.
But....
Why is she in the form of her childhood self?
And... why is she crying?
’Could this be a childhood mory?’
The thought crossed my mind as I looked at the small girl in front of . The air around us felt strangely soft and hazy, like the world itself was wrapped in nostalgia. Everything about the scene—the lighting, the silence, even the faint scent in the air—seed to whisper that this was a mory, not reality.
A single tear clung to the corner of her large eyes before rolling down her cheek.
Without thinking, I reached out and gently wiped it away.
"Thank youuu..."
Viola flinched slightly at my touch, but when she realized what I had done, she blinked and gave a small, bashful nod. Her voice trembled as she spoke, still heavy with emotion.
But then, as she lowered her head, sothing caught my eye.
’...Bruises?’
For a brief mont, the back of her neck was exposed—and I saw it clearly. A dark, swollen mark, the kind that couldn’t have co from a simple fall.
And when I looked closer, I realized it wasn’t just there.
Even through her long dress, faint traces of similar bruises were visible on her arms and wrists.
’Who could’ve done this to her...?’
These weren’t the results of training or accidents. They were deliberate. The marks of soone’s cruelty.
A faint anger stirred in my chest, but before I could say anything, Viola tilted her head, noticing my gaze.
"But... what brings you here?" she asked softly, her voice timid yet curious.
"Ah," I said, trying to compose myself. "I’m looking for sothing."
"Sothing?"
"Yes. Have you seen anything like this?"
I pulled out the dream fragnt I had obtained earlier and showed it to her.
Her eyes widened. "Ah! I’ve seen that!"
She pointed toward the distance with her small finger, her expression brightening.
"It’s over there."
I followed her gesture and saw it—a small, glowing stone, radiating a gentle white light in the middle of the dreamscape.
Found it.
Without hesitation, I hurried toward it, my steps quick with excitent.
"Goodbye!"
Her cheerful voice made stop.
I turned back to see Viola smiling at —pure, innocent, and bright.
It caught off guard.
This was the first ti I had ever seen Viola smile.
She’d always carried that sa blunt look—calm, unreadable, a little distant.
’...I’ve never seen that expression before.’
I’d seen Viola smile before, sure—a faint curve of the lips, polite and restrained, like sothing she offered out of habit rather than feeling.
But this... this was different.
Her smile now was vivid and unguarded, bright enough to feel almost out of place on her usually composed face. It caught off guard for a mont, and I found myself staring without realizing it.
She looked genuinely happy.
I didn’t know why, and maybe I didn’t need to.
After watching her for a mont longer, I turned my head away, pretending to focus on sothing else. My gaze fell on the shimring dream fragnt resting in the corner of the room.
Reaching out, I brushed my fingertips against it—
And instantly, light burst forth.
The world around us filled with a radiant glow, colors bending and swirling like liquid glass. The air trembled faintly, humming with energy as if reality itself was holding its breath.
When the light finally dimd, I found myself staring down at my hands—
Two dream fragnts, glowing faintly in my palms.
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