“…Mo…ther…?” he asked Yura hesitantly.
Dumbfounded, Yura opened her mouth to ask him a question.
“Wh—”
Who are you?
But just then, Tomoko’s voice yanked Yura back to reality. Her high-pitched, resonant voice echoed throughout the tiny shop.
“Yuraaaaa!!”
As if someone had punched her, Yura was dragged back into the present. She yanked her hand away from the mirror and stumbled over her own feet onto the floor.
“What?! Did you see one?” Tomoko exclaimed, grabbing a can of insecticide from beside the phone and leaping into action.
Yura was trying to wriggle her way up using a chair, clinging to it for support atop the dusty carpet.
“I bet they got in on something brought into the shop. Sometimes they do…and the ones that come in from outside, they’re even bigger than the ones we have here… Ooh, I can’t stand them!” Tomoko was at Yura’s side in full panic mode.
Yura slumped to the ground.
Finally, the babbling Tomoko realized something was off. Her face became serious and she furrowed her brows.
“…Yura?”
All that Tomoko could see in Yura’s eyes as she clung desperately to that chair, her face pale, was her own puzzled expression.
“I’m so sorry for taking so long! I wasn’t thinking and erased my little brother’s scheduled recording of his favorite anime. He’d flip out if he came home and found out, so I was trying to find the instruction manual so I could restore it. I kinda lost track of time. Sorry!”
As she listened and nodded to Tomoko, Yura staggered to her feet.
A chill ran through her. As if unable to believe what she’d just seen, Yura pressed her eyes closed and slipped into the chair.
✦ ✦ ✦
DARKNESS enveloped her surroundings.
She could see nothing.
There was no noise.
Not even a hint of wind.
With only the thump of her heart beating, the distant sound of people shouting could suddenly be heard. They didn’t sound happy either. They certainly weren’t shouts of joy.
There was another ominous sound accompanying the shouting. No, not just one, but several hundred sounds—all blending together.
It was the marching footsteps of thousands of people. The sound of something larger than humans—its heavy stomps shaking her world of darkness with the added sound of screeching metal.
Terrified, Yura crouched down where she stood.
I don’t want to hear this! I don’t want to hear these sounds!
The sounds were like waves ebbing and flowing on a beach; growing closer, then receding far away into obscurity, over and over again. Yura closed her eyes to the darkness and covered her ears.
She had no idea what was going on, nor did she want to know.
I just have to get away.
And yet, her legs wouldn’t move even one step forward. On the contrary, it was as if her body refused to listen, preventing her from acting on her desire to flee.
Light pierced the darkness through her covered eyes causing Yura to look up.
The blanket of darkness was giving way to a veil of crimson.
She rose in shock, glancing around. She had no idea what was coming.
For the first time she became aware of her surroundings.
This was no mere dream of sounds. It was far worse.
This was a massacre.
A war zone.
Yura stood, among all those distorted shouts, right in the middle of a battlefield.
The veil of crimson she had seen was the light of numerous fires dotting the horrific battlefield.
Trailing like a red-tailed comet, flaming arrows converged as they flew through the air.
Thousands of hands clenched blades drenched in blood, clanging wildly against one another with no sense of rhyme or reason.
Where am I?
Suddenly, a man approached Yura, the look on his face like an ogre’s wreathed in madness. His mouth was wide open and the crimson blade he carried rose into the air.
He was suddenly hit on the back of the head by something metallic and fell with his face pointing toward the sky above. The next moment, his body was trampled by horse hooves. The muffled sound echoed, and Yura instinctively clasped her hands over her mouth and turned away. Her heel slid in the muck and she fell into a puddle.
But she screamed as she realized that it wasn’t water and soil, but blood, turned a strange, dark color.
She screamed as she struggled to escape her nightmare. Managing to make it several steps away, she was able to grab a blade that had been planted in the ground.
I can’t…scream…
Yura’s arm lifted the blade from the sloshy mess. It was so heavy. Her arm felt so very heavy, like it might crumble from the weight. But there was no time for rest. Somehow, she knew that.
Yura’s legs turned all on their own and, slowly, finally, she began to walk.
She kept moving forward, breaking through the tumultuous scene. It was like she’d momentarily been taken over by someone else. Like her consciousness was trapped while another piloted her every action.
I’m scared. I’m scared. So very scared. I want to scream! Why can't I scream?
But the one piloting her forcefully silenced such actions. As if voicing such feelings would be a death sentence. They were crushed flat along with Yura herself.
Her arm swung. Supple, like a whip. Each time the retrieved blade fell, it slashed at another arm, pulling her further into the fray.
It was as if the blade itself was bleeding. The blade was bathed in a bright crimson. Yura’s arm only clutched the sword tighter. Without leaving a moment for any counterattack, her weapon swung down, again and again, felling one enemy after the next. Each new victim fell in her path.
The blade felt heavy no longer.
As if whoever had possessed Yura’s body was in complete control.
No, it was as if they’d completely switched places.
Yura looked at her arm.
Her arm was not the arm she was used to seeing. It was slender but definitely a man’s arm. It was strong, as if encased in steel. The hands were wrapped in bandages and drenched in blood.
The sword swung. Again and again. The sound of the sword slicing through flesh along with that sickening sensation.
Even when Yura could no longer hear the sound, she could feel the warm sensation of viscera flung against her face and neck.
No more. No more!
No more, please! Someone, help me! I can’t take anymore!
And then she woke up.