The feeling lingered, a prickling at the edges of my awareness. When Anna came to relieve me, I stood quickly, eager to step away.
"You okay?" she asked, her tone quiet.
"Fine," I said shortly, avoiding her gaze. "Just tired."
She didn't press, settling in by the fire as I walked to the sleeping area.
Lying on the ground, I stared up at the canopy, the faint glow of the fire flickering through the leaves above. The sensation of being watched had faded, but its memory lingered, gnawing at my thoughts until exhaustion finally pulled me into sleep.
The sterile brightness of the walls reflected the light in every direction, giving the space an endless, surreal quality. In front of me was a door—red, impossibly vibrant against the monochrome backdrop.
It was definitely eye-catching, I thought, drawn to its presence as though it was beckoning me.
I approached slowly, my footsteps echoing unnaturally in the room. The door's surface was smooth, the kind of glossy finish that seemed out of place in such a barren space. I reached for the handle, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal.
When I tried to turn it, the handle wouldn't budge.
Jam? I thought. I tried again, pressing harder, but my grip felt weak. My limbs, usually steady, seemed sluggish, as though the strength was being sapped from me with each passing second.
A surge of determination welled up inside me. I clenched my teeth and braced myself. One more time.
I gripped the handle with both hands, pulling with all my might. My muscles screamed in protest, but I pushed forward. Slowly, impossibly, the handle moved. The door, heavy as a mountain, inched open.
Blinding white light poured through the crack, engulfing the room and washing over me. My senses reeled as the brightness consumed everything, my vision blank, my ears filled with a distant ringing.
And then, a word rang out—muffled, incomprehensible.
"What…?" I tried to ask, but before I could form the thought, the world shattered like glass, and I was wrenched back to reality.
I woke with a sharp gasp, my chest heaving. Anna and the siblings were crouched over me, their faces lined with concern. Haruki's hand rested on my shoulder, and Haruka looked like she was ready to shake me awake again.
"He's coming to," Anna said, glancing at them.
"Are you okay?" Haruki asked, his voice edged with panic.
I blinked, trying to ground myself. My surroundings slowly came into focus—the dim orange glow of the morning sun creeping through the trees, the faint crackling of the campfire, and the dirt beneath me that felt too real after where I had just been.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice raspier than usual.
"That's what we'd like to know," Anna said, sitting back but still watching me closely. "You looked like you were having a seizure. You were thrashing, your breathing was all over the place…"
Haruka nodded, her eyes sharp with worry. "It wasn't normal. You scared the hell out of us."
I pushed myself upright, brushing off the dirt clinging to my clothes. "I'm fine," I said, trying to sound convincing.
Anna raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Are you sure? You don't exactly look fine."
"I feel fine," I said, though my mind felt far from it. A strange unease churned within me, a sense of something sinister stirring beneath the surface.
What's happening to me? I thought. Am I afraid of it? Probably not. But I don't like it. Not one bit.
I looked at them, all of them waiting for an explanation I didn't have. "It was just a bad dream," I said after a moment. "Nothing to worry about."
Anna exchanged a glance with the siblings, clearly not satisfied with my answer.
"Really," I insisted, standing up and brushing the dirt off my hands. "We've got a long day ahead of us. Let's not waste any time. We need to get to the riverbank and find clay. Who's coming with me?"
Anna stood, dusting off her pants. "We've been to the river before. I'll come with you. We can head out in a few minutes."
"Good," I said, moving to gather the spears we'd made.
Anna tilted her head. "Why are you taking those?"
I hefted one of the spears, testing its weight. "Hostile tribe territory," I said simply. "They've left us alone so far, but if anything happens, we'll need something for defense—or at least intimidation."
Anna hesitated but nodded, grabbing a bag from the supplies. "Should we bring some jerky? Or will we try to catch something at the river?"
"Let's plan for both," I said. "Take two pieces, just in case we can't catch anything. Our main goal is finding clay. If we have time, we'll try for fish."
"Got it." She grabbed the jerky, along with a bundle of cloth scraps. "We'll use these to carry the clay back."
"Perfect," I said, tightening my grip on the spear.
Leaving the siblings behind to tend to the camp, Anna and I set out toward the river. The path was familiar but still overgrown, the dense underbrush brushing against our legs as we walked. The morning air was cool, though the promise of the day's heat lingered on the edges.
The forest around us was alive with the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. The sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden shafts, illuminating the faint trail ahead of us.
"You seemed out of it earlier," Anna said after a while, her voice breaking the quiet.
"I told you, it was just a bad dream," I replied, keeping my eyes on the path.
"That didn't look like a bad dream," she said, her tone soft but persistent. "You were thrashing. It looked like you were in pain."
"I wasn't," I said, though the memory of the red door and the blinding light sent a shiver through me.
Anna didn't press further, but her silence was heavy with unspoken questions.
We reached the river after about an hour, its gentle current glinting in the sunlight. The water was clear, flowing smoothly over a bed of rocks and pebbles.
"We'll try fishing first," I said, setting the spear down by the riverbank. "If we get lucky, we won't need to touch the jerky."
Anna knelt beside the river, cupping her hands to splash water on her face. "I don't think luck's been on our side lately, but I'll give it a shot."
I stepped into the shallow water, the coolness a relief against the rising heat. Holding the spear steady, I watched the surface intently, waiting for any sign of movement.
After several long minutes, a shadow darted beneath the water. I struck quickly but missed, the fish disappearing downstream.
Anna laughed softly behind me. "We've done this before, but it still takes some getting used to, doesn't it?"
I let out a small grunt. "Hmm,", wading further out.
We spent the better part of an hour fishing, managing to catch two small fish—enough to supplement the jerky but not enough to rely on.
"Not great, but it'll do," Anna said, wrapping the fish in one of the cloth scraps.
"Now for the real task," I said, scanning the riverbank.
It didn't take long to find the clay. The soft, sticky material was easy to spot along the water's edge, its texture unmistakable. We gathered as much as we could carry, wrapping it in the remaining cloth scraps to keep it contained.
"This should be enough for now," Anna said, tying the bundle tightly. "We can come back for more if it works."
"Let's hope it does," I said, glancing at the sky. The sun was already climbing higher, and the air was growing warmer. "We should head back before it gets too hot."
Anna nodded, hefting her share of the load. "Let's go."
The walk back from the river was slow, the clay bundles heavy and the heat relentless. Anna walked beside me, her expression pensive.
"You seem to keep surprising me," she said after a long silence.
I glanced at her, curious. "How so?"
"With all these hidden skills," she replied, her tone serious. "And the problems that seem to pop up with them."
I didn't respond immediately, letting her words hang in the air.
"For me," she continued, "you're as mysterious as the island itself. One minute, you're tracking a boar like you've been doing it your whole life. The next, you're thrashing in your sleep like you're fighting something none of us can see."
I frowned but stayed quiet.
Anna stopped walking, turning to face me. "Look," she said, her voice softening, "I know better than to pry into someone else's business. But the thing is, whatever's going on with you? It involves us too."
I met her gaze, her earnestness catching me off guard.
"All I'm asking—no, requesting—is that you keep your cards on the table. Be open about it. We're a team, and we rely on you just as much as you rely on us."
I sighed, brushing a hand through my hair. "I'm being as honest as I can," I said. "It was a bad dream. That's all I know, and that's what I told you. I'm as much a mystery to myself as I am to you. Everything happening to me is just as sudden for me as it is for you."
Anna held my gaze for a moment before nodding slowly. "Fair enough. Just… don't shut us out, okay?"
"I won't," I said simply. "There's no reason for me to."
She smiled faintly and adjusted the bundle of clay in her arms. "Good. Let's get back before the heat kills us."
By the time we returned to camp, the siblings were waiting, their faces lighting up when they saw the bundles of clay.
"You found some?" Haruki asked, stepping forward to inspect the haul.
"Enough to patch the pot and experiment with," Anna said, setting her bundle down near the fire. "If it holds, we'll have a way to boil water."
"And the fish?" Haruka asked, glancing at the wrapped bundle.
"Not much," I admitted. "But it's something."
Haruka shrugged. "Better than nothing."
As the afternoon stretched into evening, we worked together to prepare the clay for use, spreading it near the fire to dry slightly before applying it to the damaged pot. The quiet murmur of conversation filled the camp, a faint thread of normalcy in the otherwise chaotic rhythm of survival.
The memory of the red door lingered in the back of my mind, a gnawing presence I couldn't quite shake. Something was happening to me—something I couldn't explain.