7 How was it?

"I got a marriage proposal today... they're name is Saburou." Naomi was sitting beside Kuoka in a wide field, overlooking an orange forest below.

"Saburou? ... Seems shady."

"I know; but apparently he's the son of a local lord."

"You shouldn't accept it, I'll protect you if they try to do anything."

"But think about it! I could easily become a tactician if I were married to a lord's son." The wind suddenly picked up, carrying a ball of leaves before them.

"This isn't the right way to go about your dream, you should either be patient, and wait for me to become a warlord, or try and do things yourself - But don't do it this way." Kuoka was divided between himself, and uncontrollable thoughts.

Kuoka wanted to be kind and open-minded. A side of him that isn't supposed to be there wanted to be calm, collected and knowing. The side of him that wished for an impossible dream. At least for someone of his status; but that didn't stop it from having it's way.

His tone didn't shift however. And to all except for him, that was his personality. The side of him that wished, always got what it wanted first. Before Kuoka could have a say in anything, he could already only watch the result.

"I don't think I'll accept it then... what will you do if they try something bad?" Her worried expression felt like a refreshing image. "I'll protect you no matter what, even if it costs me my life." His words were genuine, he felt oddly calm. An effect of the side he didn't understand, mixed with his own genuine thoughts?

"Thank you, Kuoka... you've helped me a lot, I can't ask for more. In this whole village, your family is the only one that's spoken to me much. I appreciate that you want to help me, but..."

It seemed like his words didn't reach her. "I really want to help you! You're the only one other than my mother who speaks to me as well!" He pleaded with her; but she still didn't budge. After a while, they stayed silent while enjoying the breeze. The wind started picking up again, after it had died down a minute ago.

A leaf slowly made it's way to the pair, and when it reached, it hit Kuoka in the face. 'How was it? This dream I mean, it's quite a fine work isn't it?'

'It's you... what's going on?' He was in a white room. Filled with black specks and particles. Like an art canvas, that's in it's early stages.

He reached for a particle, a pitch black hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. 'What is this? Let me go!' The hand tightened every second, he could feel his arm about to burst.

'Pop!' 'Pop!'

'Pop!'

'Pop!' 'Pop!'

'Pop!' 'Pop!'

'Pop!' 'Pop!'

The chanting came from nowhere, the hand tightened further. And he popped.

When he awoke, he was panting. "What just happened..." His head was throbbing, his throat felt sore, his mouth dry, and his chest was under heavy pressure. "A fever?" He patted his body. He felt horrible; but could still move.

After forcing himself. He managed to stand and walk downstairs, where his mother was in the kitchen. He walked over to her in peered into the pot she was using. 'It's that soup.' The red soup that he and Naomi had drank before.

Kuoka tried to tap on his mother's shoulder, "Did Naomi's father teach you the recipe? Could you teach it to me to-" He was cut short, by an unexpected event. His hand went through her shoulder, like he was a ghost.

He tried to swipe around his mother's face; but she didn't seem to react at all. Instead, she hummed and continued with her day, as if nothing were wrong. 'I need to go outside.' Kuoka went outside, but he saw nothing different. There was only 1 thing, that was out of the ordinary. Many of the villagers were surrounding a spot in the field.

He quickly ran over to see the commotion. And saw Naomi, knelt over a body in the water. He frantically phased through the villagers, and looked at the face of the body. It was his own. His own face, was plastered all over the front of this body. 'Am I... dead?' He panicked and nearly puked, when a worm came crawling out of his mouth.

He wasn't breathing, no... he couldn't breathe. When he fell unconscious, he awoke again. This time in the field. 'How was it? Isn't it surreal? Like you're just dying to look away, but your gaze is still fixated on it's center! It's the same with me and you, you know.'

He woke up, quickly stood and yelled. "What!" Naomi was sitting beside him. In the grass field, overlooking an orange forest below. Naomi was startled by his sudden yell. "What's wrong?" She frantically said. Kuoka started panting; but he felt normal. Just that his breathing felt strange.

"O-oh... it's nothing, just my imagination."

He continued panting, and frantically looking around him. There was now a large orange tree, in the center of the forest. "Since when was that tree there?" He tried to look closer, but found himself on the edge of the cliff. "Watch out!" Naomi yelled, and a bird hit the back of his head. Nearly sending him tumbling down the cliff.

He managed to catch himself on the ledge; but needed help from someone to lift him up. Naomi quickly ran over to help him, she knelt lower and reached for his arm. She managed to grab it after a minute and lifted him up. Oh wait...

She slowly removed his fingers from the ledge, the only things that were supporting him. One by one, first his thumb, "Wait! What are you doing?! NAOMI!" Then his index finger, his middle finger, his ring finger. And off he went, into the forest below. 'Isn't this just funny now? So... how was it?' The voice was speaking extremely mockingly at him.

A wooden spear pierced through his heart. And he awoke in his room again. He felt fine, not calm; but fine. He didn't see if anything were different or wrong, and immediately went downstairs. He saw his mother in the same motions as before.

"W-what are you doing?" His voice was weak, cold, and suffocating. His face lit up, sparkling. His mother turned around, after hearing his voice. She picked up a wooden spoon, and proceeded walking towards him. He was relieved that it was over. That someone finally heard him.

But he panicked. He frantically picked up a nearby chair, and hit his mother over the head with it. She instantly fell unconscious from the impact. "I-I-is this real?" He panicked again; but for a different reason. He had hit his mother, hard enough to knock her out cold.

A voice then called out to him again. 'How was it? Did you enjoy it? I hope you did, I worked reeeeealy hard on this one, just for you!'