Japan, Tokyo.
Morning light seeped through the gaps in the floor-to-ceiling curtains, thin and long, like a straightened golden thread lying silently across the floor. In the distance came the faint roar of Shinjuku Station's morning rush-hour crowds.
Erii woke from her dream.
First, she felt something cold trickling down from the corner of her eye, then the cool dampness of a small patch on her pillow. She reached up and touched her cheek, her fingertips coming away with clear liquid.
She was crying.
She did not know why she was crying—only that immense sorrow had settled over her heart. She had dreamed a dream, one so long that it felt as though she had lived in it for many years, for an entire lifetime.
She had forgotten many things from the dream, but there were people and events she could never forget.
Erii slowly sat up from the soft bed.
The blanket slid from her shoulders, revealing her wrinkled pajamas printed with little bears. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders in a messy tangle, several strands stuck to her tear-soaked cheeks, tickling her.
She lowered her head and looked at her hands resting on the blanket. They were trembling slightly—in the final moments of the dream, she had wanted to hold that boy, but she no longer had the strength to lift her arms.
Everything in the dream had been too real—so real that she could still feel the warmth radiating from the boy when he stood before her.
"Mingming—" Her lips moved as she called that name in a hoarse voice thick with tears.
Was it really only a dream?
She had a powerful premonition—somewhere in that country, on land she had never set foot on, a boy was waiting for her.
He was not very good