Spring had just blossomed in all its splendor, transforming the surroundings into a vibrant painting of colors. Flowers bloomed, offering their brilliant palette to admiring eyes.

At the start of the season, my grandmother and I prepared for our usual ritual: picking dandelions at Lake Towada. These herbs, precious for her homemade remedies, were a symbol of our shared moments.

In our wooden house, aged by time, I sat at my grandmother’s feet on the tatami floor, my hair down.

As I softly hummed a lullaby we loved, my grandmother, sitting behind me on the sofa, began to work. Her hands, both delicate and marked by years, braided my hair with meticulous affection.

"Your hair is beautiful, Yui. It's important to take care of it," she said, her smile as warm as the spring sun.

"Don't worry, Grandma," I replied, my voice sparkling with enthusiasm.

She cherished my hair, finding in its red hue a vibrant beauty, accentuated by the silky curls winding around her worn but skillful fingers.

A brief silence fell, and a thought crossed my mind. I took a breath before confiding in her:

"Grandma... I had a strange dream last night."

She looked at me with her usual gentle smile, as she always did when she sensed something was bothering me.

"Oh? Tell me about it, my dear."

"Everything was dark, I felt lost... I don’t really remember what happened in between, but I know that in the end, I found myself crying in the arms of a girl who was also crying. It was so strange..."

My grandmother, always serene, slightly furrowed her brows before replying in a soft, calming voice:

"I hope it's a good omen, Yui. Sometimes, our dreams try to show us paths we don’t yet understand."

"I hope so too, Grandma."

"There, all done, my dear."

"Thank you, Grandma, you're the best!"

I leapt up with a lively jump, twirling around, delighted by the final touch my grandmother had given to my hairstyle. Her nimble fingers, despite the years, gave my hair a special shine I could find nowhere else.

We hurried out before the daylight faded. The path to the lake was still bathed in the last golden rays of the setting sun.

---

I walked along the shores of Lake Towada, dazzled by the serene beauty of the place. The crystal-clear lake waters mirrored the sky in a perfect symphony of blue, while the dandelion field spread before me like a sea of radiant yellow heads. The freshness of the surrounding greenery contrasted with the vivid color of the flowers.

I enthusiastically dashed into this vibrant field, bending to pick one dandelion, then two, then three. In no time, my hands were full with bouquets of dandelions, one in each hand.

Pleased with my gathering and my speed, I turned around, eager to show my grandmother the fruits of my work.

"Grandma, look! I picked so many!"

But, in the blink of an eye, I realized with horror that my grandmother was no longer there. A wave of panic washed over me, my heart pounding wildly.

"Grandma...?"

I scanned the landscape, desperately calling for my grandmother, but my voice faded into the surrounding silence. Anxiety rose within me, each beat of my heart resounding like a drum in the unsettling calm.

The falling night didn’t help, amplifying my feeling of isolation and leaving me unable to find my way. Tears started to well up in my frightened, despairing eyes.

"Grandma... I’m scared... Grandma, where are you?"

Caught in my sobs, I felt alone, dreading that wild creatures might emerge from the shadows.

As I cried, a blue butterfly fluttered past me. Its soft glow seemed to offer a glimmer of hope in the growing darkness. Watching closely, I noticed other butterflies of the same color moving around me. Their presence illuminated the field, transforming the dark place into an enchanting spectacle.

Without fully understanding why, I felt a strange sense of reassurance. My pulse steadied, and a soothing calm filled me, as if these butterflies were spreading a magical dust.

I followed the butterflies' dance with my gaze, as they converged toward the lake. Fascinated, I moved toward the shimmering waters. The lake’s surface, animated by the butterflies, shone with an almost supernatural glow.

I crouched to observe the water, but suddenly lost my footing. I fell into the lake's dark depths, sinking into an oppressive darkness. Despite my struggles, my body refused to move. Panic filled me, and the pain of suffocation grew more intense.

Just as I felt ready to give in to the choking, I awoke with a start, gasping, in my bed. It had only been a dream, though a terribly realistic one. But a lingering feeling of unease troubled me, as if the lake’s cold humidity and smell still clung to my skin. Was it truly just a dream? My mind remained deeply disturbed.