NOVEL NEXT Chapter 24: Chapter 24
The scene shifted to a beach with waves crashing against the shore.
Thrown down into the water, I struggled to get back to the shore. Luckily, I'd landed in shallow water.
Sploosh!
Soaked from head to toe, I brushed my hair back and charged forward.
Before long, we'd both thrown aside our weapons, and our fists met each other once again.
Bam!
With matching swollen faces, we each delivered a fierce punch to the other's face, sending us both flying backward.
Splash
As we stood chest-deep in the water, we resumed our strange conversation.
To be honest, this was tough! Seriously tough, Sis!
I remembered my sister's mocking smile as I dunked my face into the water.
Our fight dragged on from the afternoon until sunset, then through the night and into dawn, spanning three days and three nights without stopping to eat or sleep.
---
Kiana's POV
She jolted awake, staring up at the white ceiling and breathing in the faint scent of antiseptics lingering in the air.
"The infirmary?"
As she regained her senses, her hand instinctively touched her face.
Nothing.
Her skin was smooth without a single scratch, let alone a bruise.
She glanced at her hands. They were completely unharmed.
Huh?
No matter how closely she checked, her body was injury-free.
"Was it really just a dream?"
Swish
Just then, the curtain around her bed was pulled aside.
"Kiana, you're awake?"
"Sister Mei?"
Seeing who had come, she calmed down and asked, "Are you really Mei?"
"Huh? What are you saying?"
Mei tilted her head, confused. Kiana still looked at her skeptically, observing every little gesture Mei made.
She even grabbed Mei's hand and sniffed it.
"This scent! It really is you, Sister Mei!"
Startled as Kiana suddenly hugged her, Mei asked in shock, "Kiana, did you study yourself senseless?"
"Huh?"
"You and Yumeji have been studying like mad lately! And now, you've both collapsed in the library?"
"We both collapsed?"
Hearing Kiana's question, Mei simply nodded.
"You two have been sleeping for half a day now."
Only half a day? Kiana was astonished at Mei's response.
In Kiana's perception, her dream had lasted much longer—nearly a week in the dream world.
Yet, it had only been half a day in reality. The time distortion was unbelievable.
Oh, right. Suddenly realizing something, she asked, "What about Yumeji? Where is he?"
If her guess was right, he was the one responsible for the absurdly long dream.
"Yumeji? Oh, he's resting in the bed next to you."
Hearing this, Kiana quickly pulled back the curtain and saw Yumeji leisurely sitting up, peeling an apple with a knife.
"It seems he woke up about an hour before you," Mei added.
Ignoring Mei's words, Kiana fixed her gaze on the boy in front of her.
Noticing her stare, Yumeji looked up from his apple, took a bite, and greeted her.
"Good morning, Kiana."
"Even though it's already late afternoon," she replied coolly.
He just smiled awkwardly in response. Seeing this, she asked simply, "Could I have a slice?"
"Sure."
He answered calmly, slicing a piece of apple and handing it to her.
Taking it, she bit into the apple, savoring it.
It was hard to believe that these were the same two people who'd been fighting so ferociously just the day before.
Although a little surprised, Mei felt a sense of relief seeing them like this.
Their dream lasted nearly a week. Only God knows what they went through, but at least it ended well, mending their relationship.
Of course, Kiana's poor grades were still an issue, and she still had an exam retake next week, but that was a problem for another day.
"Hey, aren't you taking a bit too much?" I asked as I watched Kiana grab slice after slice.
"Oh, come on! With this whole basket of fruit, what's there to worry about, you stingy jerk?"
"No, these are my get-well fruits! Show some restraint and eat a little less!"
"How do you know? Maybe they're for this young lady here."
Watching the scene, Mei thought their relationship hadn't really improved all that much. But that was fine with her because she knew they'd be okay.
Relationships are built and strengthened over time. They may fracture and have moments where they argue and avoid each other, but eventually, they'll make up, coming back stronger.
After all, they're still friends.
"Hey, that's mine!"
"Stop whining! You should eat this to mellow out your sharp tongue!"
Kiana speared an orange slice with a fork, while offering Yumeji a plate of ripe, sweet mango.
Of course, with these two… it'll probably take a while.
_____________________
It was a blood-soaked scene.
Everything was painted in shades of red—the sky, the ground.
Countless corpses lay scattered everywhere, each life ended in the most brutal way.
It didn't matter if they were men or women, old or young; they'd all been slaughtered mercilessly, without a trace of compassion.
Amidst the blood-drenched field stood a figure, his silhouette obscured by shadows, yet his face visible enough to reveal a wide, crazed, terrifying grin.
His laughter echoed continuously through the place that had sunk into complete silence.
Then, his gaze shifted in one direction, and his expression grew brighter than ever. Smiling, he spoke in a voice so sweet that it defied gender or morality.
"Ah~ Senpai, good afternoon. You're late~ They're all dead now, haha~"
He kept speaking, ignoring the shocked expression of the other person.
"All right, Senpai~ I'm going to set you free now, Senpai~ From this cursed illusion."
He moved forward quietly, reaching out his blood-stained hands toward ***
...
A small boy with pure white hair, shining like stars and fresh snow, sat alone in an endless space that seemed to stretch on forever.
In that place, the sky and the ground were one, both tinted a serene blue, radiating out infinitely in all directions.
There was no beginning or end, no boundaries, where the sky became the ground, and the ground became the sky.
Then, the young boy slowly opened his mystical turquoise blue eyes, his expression thoughtful as if he'd just emerged from a dream.
He whispered softly to himself.
<
His words were vague, the timing impossible to grasp or predict. No, perhaps the timing didn't truly matter.
For this boy, "time" was merely a word, and he was merely recounting an inevitable truth.
Perhaps, to him, "soon" or "not much longer" could span a hundred years, a thousand years, or even a million. But the boy had foreseen it; it was bound to happen, and nothing—no miracle in the world—could change that.