A soothing breeze had swept across the verdant lush grass, a rustling song enveloping the moonlit world. Glitters of the stars and the moon shone against her pupils. They were undoubtedly pretty, but more than that, they were—
Yes.
—They summoned a *strong* sense of nostalgia.
A night sky, how long had it been since she'd glimpsed upon its clear, *unblemished* serenity, adorned by these celestial bodies? The calm glint of these collective lamps were captivating, so much so she had sought to stretch a palm out to grasp its glimmering glory.
Except, that hand was caught. It was a gentle touch of another; someone she was once fond of—extremely so.
Surely, they were smiling down at her, whoever they were, beholden to the cradle of her arm. It was so idyllic, she could spend an eternity away in their care, like one refusing to part with the warmth of their blanket on a cold day.
"Hey!"
Then there was a noise; not quite unpleasant, but *certainly* disruptive.
"Heeeeey, wake up, sleepy face!"
Slits formed and expanded, revealing faces of children…
"Oh, took her long enough."
…Children she hadn't got to know for too long. She only did thanks to one circumstance leading to another. Namely, starvation, and perhaps "everything coming with lacking pennies to fill a wallet" as the owner of this place would say. Could her ragged pockets even hold something so precious securely?
With one final jerk, they'd smacked the ghost of sleep off her, or so they'd hoped.
"Ah, it's not 'sleepy face,' it's uh, Yu… Yudi?"
It was hardly a bed where she awoke, but having this thing they called a "futon" was better than nothing. Whether it really *was* a futon was a different question altogether.
"Yugi!"
"Yeah!"
The two boys were all but grinning.
Meanwhile, the girl arose surely but slowly, like a mummy rising from its tomb. Blonde, disheveled locks hung from her mane, something that convinced them of her ethnicity being different from theirs. Or was it just one of those "hair jobs" they had heard about? It wasn't like her features were too foreign; well, not that they'd know for sure.
Either way, her eyes were still red and moist, and she had just assumed a seiza position.
"Yuki," was the single word escaping her lips.
Seeking to blink off the whiskers of sleep, her gaze faced the gentle lume peeking from the cloudy sky via a window. The blurs of her vision evaporated rapidly as she rubbed her eyes, before taking in the decrepit yet comforting scene of the house's interiors as she often would. But as much humble geniality as the place held, the lingering melancholy born of her dream colored her visage.
"Oh," he smiled giddily, "was that it?"
"Uh…" One of the other boys tilted his head at her eyes, noting the moisture. "Looks like ya had the *Levin's Call*?"
"Wonder what it said to her?" Then the second boy blinked. "Gave her a tidbit on how to find the next best candy?"
"Keigo-niisan might know…"
"Eh?" Her voice still low, she thought of the vaguely-familiar term, but it was far too early in the morning to rack through the cobwebs of her memories. "Levin's Call…?"
"Calls of the big *Kami*," he pointed a finger at the half-broken window, "they whisper *great* things!"
"Like where to get the best pancake?!"
"No, you idiot." As the boy rebuked his compatriot, the word "pancake" triggered his memories and both their heads perked up.
"Breakfast!"
They called out in unison, each grabbing Yuki's arms from side to side. Not that they had the strength to actually drag her over to the dining room in the distance, but they did their absolute damndest.
"C'mon, everyone's gonna finish 'em up, the soup will be out soon!"
The thought of a hot meal summoned a gentle smile, Yuki allowing herself to be tugged and pulled out of the bedroom. *Levin's Call*, was it? The moon, the stars and whoever's hand it was—she would've loved to bask under that clear night sky, but alas this would have to stave her thoughts for now.
Past a tiny corridor where a crumbled mess of concrete lay by a tarnished wall, the dinner table in their only other room came into view. She had to clean the pathways' rubble soon. When did it get here, anyway? Was it just something the kids did yesterday? She must've missed it.
Her thoughts and queries melted away at the scent of fresh tomatoes beckoning her, her escorts having led her to even more of their kind.
Peering over, Yuki had found them practically cupping the soup into their bare hands from old ceramic bowls, scooping them up in what looked like clawing motions! It was only the oldest of the bunch who had a spoon—one *nearly* half-bent—but it was good enough, or so they'd tell her.
Thoughts of sanitary practices were utterly foreign here, but they appeared content to live the way they did.
"Oh. Gloomy's still here."
"Hey, that's rude."
"Soup's almost finished—!"
"It is."
"Ehehe, I drank straight from the well! It's so fun to—owh!"
As the boys and girls exchanged words sheepishly before the drowsy girl, the eldest struck at the boy who gave a toothy grin; with his favored spoon draped in gravy, of course. It may have bent just a little more than it was a moment prior.
"Apologize! We don't have any more to make for her, ya know?!"
"S-Sorry, Yubi…"
He was rubbing his belly, lips quirked hazily despite his words.
The girl was about to correct them for the umpteenth time but had to take a moment to process all their bickering. What was the fuss, anyway? She just nodded her head. "It's okay."
Being the last to join them, she shuffled down onto one of the available spare seats awkwardly. She turned her droopy eyes to whatever she could find, which happened to be half an apple on a plate that had seen better days. It was clean; well, *clean* as far as the naked eye could tell. Several eyes befell this fruit like hunters prying on a treasure sitting on a lone isle.
Before their gaze turned to stretching their limbs to steal her mark however, she snatched the apple with the speed and ferocity of a stalking predator. She peeked back and forth between her notably-younger peers, frowning as she clasped her food with both hands, holding it dear to her heart like a cherished prize. They wouldn't have her lifeline so soon.
"Grr!"
"Shit, almost!"
"Hey, that's enough you guys." The oldest boy turned to Yuki with a pained smile. "Sorry about all the trouble."
He bowed his head to her.
"Aha, he's trying to be like Keigo-niisan again!"
"S-Shut up! Anyway," the tallest boy crossed his arm, "seems like the place's dusty all over again, so we'll be grateful for yer help with cleanin' up."
"It's pointless anyway," one of the girls said, "no matter how much we clean, the winds bring so much dust everyday…"
Yuki nodded whilst chewing. "Okay," she swallowed, "I like to help."
"Great." The big boy grinned. "Then we can go play some more!"
"Good idea, leave the hard work to Yudi!"
"Or maybe Yufi may want to play with us?"
"She's still waking up," another one of them said. "Besides, she can't clean *and* play… unless she somehow can?"
"Keigo-niisan might think we're forcing her again. Let's not…"
The blonde's lips were pursed, her thoughts bottled at her teeth. Did she *want* to play with them? It *would* be nice. Maybe she would quietly sneak up on them, and discreetly join afterwards? She pictured herself more or less floating to their side like a specter.
"Anyway, we'll leave the cleaning to you!"
With those words, the eldest of them had led the way, the pack striding out of the orphanage. The door was closed; it wasn't one that was in the best of shape, but at least it clicked shut for now.
Having finished her breakfast in lonesome, Yuki swept the floor idly with an old, worn-out broom grasped in her hands. It was the kind of stuff she'd see fictional witches riding on, in what few holographic screens she'd passed by before. Not all such frames were visible to her, but *some* images were clear across this gigantic city they called the "megaplex."
Still, she worked her way across the floor, little by little, starting from the living room and trailing towards the tiny corridor leading to the bedroom.
Yuki sighed. It came back knocking, all mundanity expunged to reveal the starry image of her dream. It was clear, perhaps a bit *too* clear, and a part of her thanked the Kami for allowing it to persist.
That tender, benign hand grasping hers; that instant, a transient memory though it was, had her grinning, hands ceasing to brush the floor. Peace, comfort, warmth greater than even the sense of security from abiding in this orphanage enveloped her like a thick shawl. Retracing that moment, she examined every detail she could remember of this excursion, its potential omens secondary to merely recapturing the longing and wonder her heart beated to. Again and again she pictured it, letting it wash her over in full to hold on to this oasis of elation she hadn't felt in so long; it was just too soon to let the day start for real—
Her groggy eyes were far from the churning dust in her vicinity now, the girl half-resuming her work.
—This was unlike other "visions" she had, after all. They often came with a sense of *otherworldliness*, even if they were at times merely placid; this was instead *delightfully* sweet. Was she ever held with such love and care? No matter how hard she tried, no such moment could be conjured from her past.
Her arms fell again, longing to feel the sensation of that person's touch, not there but in this physical plane—beneath that majestic moon, on a beautiful summer night…
Inevitably, she came upon the narrow corridor where that same rubble of pasted concrete sat. It was more litter than she'd recently seen. When had it gathered there? She peered up. There *was* some deformity in old paints and concrete; she wouldn't put it past the few cracks up there to not spew some of its dry innards. The bigger fissures were of course patched up with papers, not to prevent the ceiling from crumbling apart but to stop the chilling breeze from blowing in. There was no second floor to act as a buffer against the elements here, *this* was all they had.
She blinked, no longer gathering the slathered grime.
What was that?
Was that a *hiss* just now?
It felt as if her heart froze.
Was this what that Levin's Call was about, or was it something else? It was surely a *whisper* though.
…Could it be those beings? Ayakashi? No, she'd have felt malice permeating the air by now.
She looked about, brows furrowed, broom clutched tighter. Hostility wasn't evident, but the last thing Yuki would allow was the violation of what little serenity the walls of this place withheld, so she *had* to be ready for *anything*. Could it have been the voice of that person from her dream, though…?
Her features eased, and she let her lips part. "Hello…?"
Seconds passed.
Then, a faint click was heard.
She glanced about, turning left and right in a frenzy! Was it from the wall, ceiling, or maybe their bedroom?! It was a noise one could easily pass off as random, like those things one might hear as they'd try to get a wink of sleep; a common enough occurrence in this ramshackled horror they lived with. But for Yuki, an intent gaze betrayed an intention of dismissal.
An inkling bothered her, as if a corner of her left temple itched, except not on her skin but beneath her cranium. She had trotted over to the room where she awoke prior. Beside her own futon, many more lay there, some haphazardly than others. They were yet to have been folded and cleaned. As Yuki's pace slowed, she made a mental note to do just that but first… *who* stood here? There was no figure ostensibly, but she heard something.
A tap. She looked up. There was another one, she turned sideways—and another, and again; it repeated until a whole chorus was heard!
Yuki perked up, realizing it might not have been some apparition in the house.
It was pouring outside, hard! She was left with only the sound of nature's whim.
The wide-eyed girl stared out the window, one of which was whole and not shattered, watching the tears of the heavens fall.
She was silent. Then, she reached her hand out to the smudged, *hazy* glass, and let it gently rest as she peered out. Dusts and grime would now be washed away from the periphery of their home, like how the dream had cast aside her melancholy and replaced it with nostalgia.
The rain was comforting in its own way, and Yuki viewed its ephemeral work in solemn silence, while a shadowy silhouette studied her back from a wall in turn, its beady black eyes squinting ever so slightly.