The story of one

"Do you regret it"

"...what?"

"Maybe the correct question is...are you willing to do it, again?"

"what are you talking about...who even are you?!"

"Mirai, you will always ask the wrong questions, resulting in your wrong decisions"

"W-what?? who's that, what are you even saying. Where am I?!"

The voice went quiet, leaving me to myself, deprived of all senses; I wasn't sure what had happened. Or even how I ended up here.

My heart should be pounding, maybe even out of my chest by now. Yet..it wasn't.

I was surprisingly calm...or, familiar. A strange feeling of deja vu had rushed over me.

"Listen Mirai, listen to yourself..and if you can; question yourself." the voice had finally spoke. Those words were to become the last thing I heard, before...

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<- .-. .- -. ... .. - .. --- -. / -.-. --- -- .--. .-.. . - . .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.->

The feeling of dirt, spikes grass and scorching heat, with fresh yet quite chilly air.

This is all I am able to understand of my environment without having to look. My eyes have yet to regain their comfortable ability to look, sadly.

I have been laying here, for what felt like hours; but were actually only around fifteen minutes, unmoving, lifeless.

The spikes grass brushing against my skin, the skin that has been marked by soil and whatever else there is on the organic, nature-y, untouched ground. The sound of trees, branches and leaves rustling against each other as wind blew, causing more soil and dirt to blow into my face-.

Tho it felt as if I had been reborn into an untouched society, somewhere where I had no print or touch.

It was

It was..

It was not..

"Who..?"

I hurriedly sat up , my eyes flung open to the surprising unfamiliar, husky voice.

yet it seems I have overestimated my eyes ability to handle the sun after such impact. I'm left squinting at what seemed to be a revolver pointed to my head, and the person holding said revolver to be a man of tall figure. wait..

A REVOLVER?!?!

My hands fling up to the sides of my face, as if they were on autopilot. Eyes slightly wider than before,

"Who are you?" The man demands, bringing the revolver closer to my head.

"W-wait---" I stuttered, my mind going through thirty different scenarios at once. Yet I had narrowed them down to two.

Scenario number one,

I distract him, a simple 'look there!' and bolt. yet he could simply shoot me from the back, and I had no energy to outrun a bullet. Second option, answer his questions and try to get out of it alive.

ahh..I don't have to time to think of this!

why was this happening anyways?!

"so..?" he said, slightly tilting his head to the right.

"I am.." I pondered. "I am just lost...I'm not quite sure how I ended up here to be quite honest" I blabbered, talking twice as fast as I usually would. If it wasn't clear, I was sure there was sweat dripping from my forehead.

It had been a while since I was in a life threatening situation. So I may seem quite robotic to it.

The man, who as of this moment I could see more clearly, seemed of rich--no, noble background. From his expensive looking grey trench coat, to the shiny revolver he had, still placed against my head. I could tell was rich.

The tall, ash-brown haired man froze, consumed by his thoughts;

it seems I'm not the only one creating scenarios in my head.

He finally moved, extending his hand to me.

Was this guy asking for a handshake..? now??

"Take off your cardigan"

"excuse me?" I hesitated, yet it was a choice between my comfort in chilly weather, and the possibility of my head exploding by a revolver.

I paused taking in the last second of warmth I had before being exposed to the weather with only a beige shirt.

I placed my cardigan in the extended hand. He seemed to look for something as his eyes scanned my cheap, coral colored cardigan. When, I assume, he couldn't find what it was he looked for. His attention turned to me, eyeing me head to toe.

Whatever he was looking for it seemed to have worked in my favor, as he slowly started lowering his revolver.

"Just, who are you?" He said, the question seemed to be whispered to be directed to himself and not me,

but I answer either way.

"I'll tell you..just can I have my cardigan back? it's quite chilly" I batted my eyelashes, heard it was a good tactic; not sure if it'll work now.

He tossed the cardigan back, then took a few steps back, turning his back to me.

Was he finally letting me go..just like that?

I will say he seems to be such an unprofessional robber (I'm assuming he is some kind of cosplaying criminal?, but with a body like that you could do pretty well as a cosplayer..)

letting a possible treasure away so easily? I will say this is rather insulting.

With such expensive clothes I doubt he is. But I guess those are stolen too.

Is that why he took my cardigan..to look for money..but he couldn't find any so he--

Was I that broke?!!

My hands linked with my mouth. A gasp escaped my mouth, a rather loud one at that.

The man flinched at my sudden reaction,

He finally turns to look at me. He starts taking a few steps towards me before remembering something.

The man takes his revolver out of his pocket before throwing it to the other side of this meadow like place.

I guess that was his way to show he won't try to hurt me.

He kneeled down to face me, only then had I realized I was still sitting.

It seems to he has a few, very faint, freckles across his face, matching his honey skin. They're unnoticeable from afar. Or maybe I just didn't notice it when he was pointing a revolver to my head.

I look at him, he looks at me. Silence ensues between us before I break it.

"my name's...uhm..my name's Mirai"

"Mirai..hm," he pondered around my name for a few seconds, thinking of something. "It sounds eerily familiar"

I nod, unsure what to say "well it never was a popular name, so that is quite surprising to hear"

He reaches his hand out, once again, I raise an eyebrow at him, pointing to my cardigan.

Surely he wasn't asking for it again.

He smirks, shaking his head as he gestured to my hand.

A few seconds of silence pass by.

"I meant a handshake," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"I know" I respond

"then?"

"I just didn't want to take it" I smile, feeling slightly better.

"oh..ok," he continued "my name's Leroi."

"good name."

"I suppose, thank you?"

"mhm" I nod, I just really want to go home if I'm being honest.

A few moments of silence,

again

I start fidgeting with the grass, trying to ignore his obvious piercing eyes.

"So Mirai, do you know what year it is?"

ah.. there it is. my weekly 'are you sure you're not insane in the head' conversation. I'm just surprised it's coming from a guy who was pointing a gun to my head a few minutes ago.

"Answer me Mirai, what year is its?"

"It's year 33" the answer had come out like autopilot, well it had been beaten into me by almost everyone around me for the past two years,

"are you sure?"

I nod.

"it's year 356"

"yeah, I know."

wait..

"year 356?!"

"yes"

"Oh"

"Year 356 BT"

"..oh"

I may have not said it, or showed it. But surprise took my brain over, it felt like everything around me paused. As if I was back at that place where I could not see nor her or feel..

I was not insane ?

I am not insane ?!

I am actually not...insane...