Every night, as the world quiets and the weight of the day finally falls away, I find myself preparing for the only place that brings me any semblance of peace—my bed. The darkness wraps around me, and with each exhale, my mind slips into the familiar embrace of sleep. It's in this stillness, in this world where nothing exists but myself, that I am free. Or at least, that's what I want to believe.

I'm not really awake in this world, not in the way most people are. I drift. My soul drifts. In the dream, I am no longer bound by the chains of my existence. There are no more school days, no more routines. No more loneliness.

I am no longer alone.

But despite all of that freedom, there is one thing that I cannot escape. One thing that stay with every moment I spend in that world: her.

Her name is Yumeko.

I don't remember her face the first time we met. All I know is that the moment I laid eyes on her, everything changed. I couldn't see her clearly. There were no distinguishing features to hold onto, no face to memorize when I woke up. But her presence… It was like I knew her from somewhere, as if she was more than just a figment of my imagination. There was a pull, something magnetic about her that kept me coming back, night after night.

When we spoke for the first time, she told me something I never expected. "I don't have a name," she said, her voice soft, like the wind through trees.

And that was it. It was in that moment that I gave her the name—Yumeko.

It means a girl in a dream. 

(A/N: Yume in Japanese means dream, and Ko indirectly defined as girl, child, etc.)

Her face was always blurry in my dreams, like a mist that never fully cleared. But I never minded. In the dream, it didn't matter. All that mattered was her.

But even in the fantasy, a question lingered in the back of my mind, a question that I couldn't escape: Who is she?

I didn't know it then, but I was about to learn something that would shake the foundation of everything I thought I understood.

It was a year ago, back when I still lived in Shizuoka Prefecture. Life hadn't changed much. Every day felt like the last, like I was trapped in a loop of repetition. School, work, home. No one cared, not really.

I still remember that day, the day that would push me to the edge.

"Shirai-kun! The field trip's tomorrow, you know!" A voice broke through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality.

I glanced up at one of my classmates who was grinning.

"Yeah? What about it?" I mumbled, not really caring. I was used to people trying to talk to me, but it always felt so hollow, so fake. They didn't care about me. Not really.

"Come on, don't be such a downer! You're actually going, right?"

I let out a deep sigh. "Why would I go? It's not like anyone cares."

His grin faltered, but only for a moment. Then, he slammed his hand down on my desk, making a loud noise. "What's wrong with you, Shirai? Are you learning to talk back now?" He called over a few of his friends, and soon, their laughter filled the room.

"Oi, Shirai, you gonna come to the field trip or what?" one of them jeered.

I rolled my eyes, uninterested. "What's the point? You all know I can't go."

"Why's that?"

"His parents are dead, remember?" The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "No one's gonna sign his consent form. Plus, the guy's broke. Can't even afford the trip!" They all burst into laughter.

I felt my heart sink. The words stung. Every single one of them felt like a knife buried deep in my chest. It was all true. I was an orphan, living alone. I had no money. No one cared if I lived or died.

Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them.

Without saying a word, I stood up from my desk and left the room. I didn't care if the bell hadn't rung yet. I needed to get out of there.

I ran all the way back to my apartment, ignoring the stares and whispers from everyone around me. It was the same story every day. The world didn't care about me. Why should I care about it?

I slammed the door to my apartment shut and collapsed onto my bed. The tears didn't stop. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

The pain, the isolation, the shame—it was all too much.

I thought about it, thought about what it would be like if I wasn't here anymore. Maybe things would be better. Maybe the world would finally leave me alone.

In that moment, I reached for the knife on the edge of my desk. I didn't think. I just acted.

I cut into my wrist, the cold steel biting into my skin, and the world around me slowly faded. The pain was… strange. It felt like a release. I could feel my life slipping away, and for the first time in a long time, it felt good.

But just as my vision blurred and my heartbeat slowed, something happened. A strange warmth, a soft light, surrounded me. It was as if the world itself was holding me, comforting me.

And then, I woke up.

I opened my eyes to a world so different, so surreal, that for a moment, I thought I was still dreaming.

The sky was a deep violet, stretching far beyond what I could see. The trees were towering, their bark glowing faintly, and birds with curved horns flew gracefully in the air. The grass shimmered with a faint glow, like the stars had fallen to earth.

I wasn't sure if I was in heaven or hell. All I knew was that I wasn't alone.

And then, I heard it.

A voice, soft and ethereal, called out to me from behind.

"Hello, Yanagi Shirai-kun. I've waited so long to meet you."

I turned, and there she was.

Yumeko.

Her face was still blurry, but her presence was undeniable. She was beautiful, like a goddess, like something that didn't belong in this world.

But the question still lingered. Who was she?

I couldn't remember how I had gotten here. I couldn't remember the pain, the darkness, or the struggle. All I knew was that this world felt… real. She felt real.

And maybe, for the first time in a long while, I wasn't alone.