His surroundings were dark and cold.

He's been here before. The dream realm. Or at least it's a place he always found himself in whenever he closed his eyes at night.

There were a lot of places he could explore here but if he kept walking forward, he'd eventually see the end of the dream. He would see the same person.

Her pale blue hair similar to his own was swaying from an unseen wind, her white dress billowing along with it. 

He felt that same energy that always overcame him at the sight of her.

He ran.

He ran and ran and ran.

His legs pumped with all their might but all his efforts always fell meaningless.

He didn't know why he always tried.

The dark road lengthened. Stretching and stretching.

Then when the distance became unbearable, when her figure looked as small as his thumb, she would turn. His mother, whose features he couldn't remember, would finally face him.

She muttered something beneath her breath.

Shinichi saw a sea of fire. Red liquid decorated the land as though blood rained down on it. Emaciated bodies circled him, inky blots falling off their dark lips. They walked slowly through the ruined world, each step causing a searing smoke. One figure coughed and disgorged undigested meat and bone. A figure would enter the flames and would collapse into dust.

Shinichi swung his head around, squinting his eyes.

Their faces were all blurry yet familiar.

Their mouths were gaped open, unable to utter a sound.

Yet their soundless screams all poured into Shinichi's skull. His head threatened to burst as their cries flooded him.

Pain spiked throughout his body. He fell on his knees, the darkness carrying his weight. He gasped out a strained breath as his head hit the phantom floor. His spine curled, his limbs tensing and tightening. He lost his focus on the scenery and everything seemed to melt down into the bottomless ground.

Something was gnawing on him.

His nails scratched through his chest and he whimpered from the sting. Flesh and blood caught on his nails as he dug and dug. His scream echoed in the darkness with no one to hear it.

It was eating him.

He writhed and clawed recklessly at where he knew his drumming heart lay. Something was tearing at his muscles, closing in--

It was going to devour him.

Shinichi awoke with a gasp. Cold sweat gathered on his temples. He heaved out ragged pants before releasing a long and heavy sigh. His breath carried away the aftermath of the dream and he could finally relax on his bed. Bright light filtered in the house's open entrance, the yellow light highlighting Shinichi's features in contrast to the darkness of their home. He squinted as the light caught his pale locks and grey eyes.

Ah, it was now the start of a new day.

Rolling on his covers, he attempted to catch more sleep. Their mattresses were thin and were just haphazardly thrown on the floor. He could feel wood and nail biting through it, digging into his skin, trying to get in--Shinichi shook his head and gave up on sleep.

He should move his bed to a different position. Those nails hurt. Shinichi reluctantly sat up, rubbing his eyes.

His dreams were always strange but not this strange. It had turned into a nightmare. It's been too long since he last saw that nightmare, perhaps because he was too busy trying to be alive. Now that he had time to rest, it came back. Well, who cares about that? There were other things to worry about. It was better to ignore it.

Through his unfocused eyes, Shinichi saw Irish.

'So this guy did manage to get home.' Shinichi didn't know if that was good or bad.

His green-haired friend was sleeping peacefully on his own mattress, his blanket kicked off to the side. A pool of saliva decorated Irish's cheeks. He could see a wet spot below Irish's ear. Shinichi cringed. Shinichi was always the one that cleaned the sheets.

Well, he cleaned everything honestly. And judging from the odour that invaded his space, Irish barely washed his teeth. Life was hard.

Look at him sleeping so peacefully, while I have to endure nightmares, thought Shinichi with disdain.

"Irish, wake up!"

Of course, the man didn't.

Shinichi stood up and the floorboards groaned at his movement. Irritation slowly settled on his stomach with every grudging step he took. The wooden ground creaked to the rhythm of his footsteps. His ears would start bleeding from the scratchy noise at this rate.

Small spots of light sifted through the holes on the house's wooden walls, dotting Shinichi's pale figure and occasionally attacking his eyes. He swatted his hand on it as though shoo-ing away a fly. Damm light trying to rob him of his vision. The simmering anger grew.

"The walls need to be fixed and we should actually install a door," he complained.

Upon reaching their three legged coffee table, a table they happened upon, he found his open notepad (written in it was a reminder of his crippling debt) clinging on the edge of the table.

Shinichi plopped down next to it.

The ground groaned in pain.

Shinichi glared down, a bead of sweat crawling down his cheek. Was it going to cave in?

Well nevermind that for now. Shinichi wasn't very knowledgeable in the field of treehouse durability. Irish was the one who built this humble abode of theirs thus he should be the one that would concern over it.

Shinichi already had a lot on his plate paying off (evading) their loans, trying to maintain the cleanliness and functionality of their fragile home, trying to keep themselves from dying of hunger, keeping the authorities from learning about their illegal occupancy, keeping the authorities from learning about their true identities, and trying to prevent Irish from accidentally blowing up their house and killing themselves (the guy liked playing with fire a bit too much).

He let out a deep sigh. Today was another day of unemployment.

One arson accident was enough to ban them from entering several villages (and perhaps Shinichi PvPing people he found annoying didn't help) and when they did find a village that welcomed them, Irish just had to accidentally set a forest fire. They had to move again lest their own home would turn into ashes. Now, Shinichi hoped Irish was able to retrieve some fake IDs for them. He needed to enter a new village and get a job fast before they starved to death.

Everything would be so much easier if he could do monster commissions without arousing suspicion. The last time he did that though ended with him almost dying and an additional silver coin to his ever growing debt.

There was a groan behind him and Shinichi whipped his head to his green-haired 'friend'. His right hand was hovering over the slipper on his foot.