"I love you."

A man in his thirties, his voice raw with passion, screamed those words to the woman standing before him. They were alone on a desolate path, surrounded by the quiet stillness of nature. He wore an unusual outfit - a dyed leather coat marked by scratches, perhaps from some wild animal. A peculiar hat obscured the lower half of his face, lending him an air of mystery.

It was evident from his tone and the intensity in his words that this was a confession, a heartfelt proclamation to someone he deeply cherished.

He had chosen this day carefully. The weather was cold, and the first snow of the season was expected to fall a poetic backdrop for a momentous occasion. His careful planning spoke of his hope and nervous anticipation, though the day had not yet fully unfolded.

Ah, this same dream again!

The thought jolted through a young girl, who found herself once more in the same strange vision she had been experiencing since her early teenage years. At first, she had dismissed it as an ordinary dream, a fleeting product of an overactive imagination. But as the years passed, the dream's recurrence and vividness began to trouble her.

Eventually, after seeking a well-known psychologist, she came to understand that this might be a trauma or perhaps something carried over from a past life or even a cryptic warning of danger yet to come.

If I remember correctly, the next scene will involve the guards. She mused, her mind now alert and expectant.

She knew this dream too well. Every detail, every face, every hazy fragment had been etched into her memory like an old, worn storybook.

"Yukiko-sama, I've been thinking a lot about us lately," the man's voice echoed. "I once believed you were my perfect match, but now... I think I may have misunderstood."

"Takeshi-kun! Why are you saying such things?" The woman's voice quivered as she spoke, her emotions threatening to spill over. "We promised to solve this together, didn't we? Why are you trying to handle this in a way I don't like? And why... why are you addressing me with honorifics? You know I hate that!"

Her tears brimmed and fell freely now. She made no attempt to hide them, hoping perhaps that her vulnerability would move him. But the man's resolve was firm unyielding.

Wait, this part of the dream… this is new. I don't remember this conversation!

The girl's thoughts raced. She was certain she had meticulously documented this dream in her diary, yet here was a scene she had no recollection of. A slight panic bubbled within her, but curiosity held her captive. I could wake up now… but no I need to know what happens.

"Yukiko-sama, let's part ways," Takeshi said. His voice was low, resolute, yet tinged with sorrow. He looked directly into her crystalline eyes, his expression one of finality.

Standing on the marble steps, he turned and began descending the spiral staircase. Yukiko's silent sobs followed him, though she made no move to stop him. Perhaps she understood, deep down, that his decision was final.

The dream shifted, pulling the girl into the next scene.

"Tsubaki-sama! Why are they taking Takeshi-kun away?" Yukiko screamed, her voice breaking with desperation. "Doesn't everyone know he could never do something so vile? He's not that kind of person!"

Her cries were echoed in the hall. The guards dragged Takeshi forward, their grip unyielding. Yukiko struggled against her maids, who restrained her with difficulty. Takeshi offered no resistance, walking calmly as if resigned to his fate.

The grand hall was filled with members of the aristocracy, their faces cold and judgmental. Most looked upon Takeshi with disdain, their expressions twisted with anger. The emperor's dungeon awaited him a grim fate involving a slow, cruel death, likely at the mercy of wild beasts.

Yukiko's voice broke again. "He's innocent! Why is no one stopping this madness?"

Yes, I remember this. This is always the second-to-last scene before that…

The girl braced herself as the dream reached its climax.

"Well, then... this is my final goodbye," Takeshi's voice echoed.

Wait! I promised myself I would look at his face this time. I need to see his expression!

But no matter how hard she tried, her vision blurred, refusing to reveal his face.

"I know you'll be okay now," he said softly. "There's so much I wanted to say, but… it's too late."

"Thank you, Yuki, for everything."

"No, Takeshi. Thank you for everything."

They stood once more on that desolate path where the confession had first occurred. Snowflakes began to fall, delicate and serene. Takeshi raised a hand to touch Yukiko's face, his movements gentle, deliberate.

And then—

Splash.

The girl heard the unmistakable sound of something hitting the ground. It wasn't water. It wasn't leaves brushing in the autumn wind.

It was something heavier, more final.

A head.

The girl woke with a start, her heart racing and her breath shallow. Her body was drenched in sweat, her mind reeling from the violent conclusion of her dream. She sat up, clutching her knees, as fragments of the vision swirled around her.

That dream… she thought, her hands trembling. What was that?

She stumbled out of bed, her legs shaky, and stared into the mirror.

"Huh?"

Her reflection stared back, pale and wide-eyed, as if it held secrets she wasn't ready to confront.