She was back in the studio. The colours were muted, like someone brought down the saturation of the picture. Somehow in her mind however, it didn't look abnormal at all. Elsewhere in her mind, as if a higher power was pulling the strings of her body and actions like a puppet, thought that she was here to practice her dances. No one else was here though. What was there to practice?
A song played in the background; a song that she shouldn't recognise. It never should have existed, but she moved in a dance that felt like a blur to her mind, but was nothing but natural to her body. She watched herself in the studio mirror, making sure that her form was impeccable. Sloppiness isn't something that she tolerated in her work. For a brief moment, the dance asked for a spin. She had only taken her eyes off her reflection for just a second.
Yume stumbled over her feet, tipping over in balance and instinctively shooting her hand out to brace the impact against the mirror. Her hand met with the cool surface of the mirror, real image against reflection. She exhaled in relief, grateful that she hasn't injured herself in any way. That'd be a hassle to explain to her manager. Another sigh of relief escaped her lips as she went to push herself back upright. Eyes trailing down to her hand on the mirror, she paused... and stared just a little longer.
The reflection of her hand twitched on its own.
Her head shot up to meet a pair of eyes that were as blue as hers. The face and hair wasn't the same though... Hair... Black as ink and dead straight in a princess cut. Face... Refined, older with a lovely smile that somehow unnerved the hell out of Yume instead. Clothes, even... They were of a priestess.
Yume had never seen this person in her life, yet it felt like she was supposed to know her.
"Who are you?" she dared to ask. The baby blue eyed priestess tilted her head to the side curiously, breaking the illusion of reflection. That kind smile never left her visage. Her lips moved delicately, soundless in voice, but the answer echoed into her mind like a splitting headache.
"I am you now."
With a half groan and a half screech of pain, Yume collapsed to her knees. Her hands clutched at her head as her body curled up and waiting for reverberating pain to settle. Now? Yume stared down at herself as each perceived second ticked away the discomfort. Her red hair fell over her eyes. Her clothes were plain but well tailored. She was not what this reflection claimed to be.
"W-What do you mean?" Yume demanded weakly, eventually finding the resolve to lift her head. The priestess in the mirror still stood, like a looming tower, in silence. Finding herself without any more strength, it didn't stop the girl from pressing on.
"That sounds ridiculous!" she snapped, grabbing a lock of her red hair as if to prove something. "You look and sound nothing like me! You are obviously not me! I'm me!"
The expression of the mysterious reflection peered down at Yume in what looked like pity, only to be met back with a glare.
"You and I are..." the woman started slowly, surprising the idol with a lack of a painful reverb this time. The thought was too soon, as the finished sentence tore into her subconscious like a bad memory trying desperately to burrow through.
"Kiseki."
Yume cried out, "Stop! Don't call me that!" Her hands found themselves back against her head, curled up to shell away from both the pain in her head and the name. "I'm Yume... My name is Yume!"
She wasn't sure what made her lift her head this time. All she could see was the muted red fabric of the priestess's hakama. Then the priestess knelt down to her face level, staring with a smile that gradually grew smaller and smaller until it was a deadpan.
"Kiseki..." the woman called her by that accursed name in such gentleness, Yume had half the mind to punch this mirror into oblivion. The other half wanted to cry. Perish the thought quickly however, because the mirror was already starting to crack on its own. The pretty priestess was breaking apart upon her last words.
"You... we are quite literally... an anomaly who shouldn't even exist."
The glass shattered. Yume awoke, startled with the sound still ringing in her ears until it softly faded into silence. It was dark, with the thick curtains of her bedroom shielding away the morning sunlight. It had been only a couple of days since her discharge and with the insistence of her manager, she was mainly stuck at home to rest to full capacity. Yume found herself groaning and rolling over in her lush bed, as if she was about to sleep again. Her mind stopped her though, warning of the dream that didn't fade away to obscurity like the others. It replayed clearly in her mind. Yume clutched tightly to the sheets against her and sat up a minute after.
What time was it? Plodding herself over to the window, she pulled back the curtains and shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness with her other hand. What a beautiful day, she would have thought if the dream didn't permeate her mind anymore. But the priestess's face was still as clear as day, as if she had to be someone real. She had to be someone she met before, right? The people you meet in dreams were always people that you have met in real life, no matter how tiny and significant the moment was. The subconscious was a powerful--and scary--thing.
Yume began to lower her hand from her eyes, only to freeze mid-action in disbelief, and possible horror. Her hand, as faint as it was, but it was still present... She could see the faint obscured sunlight behind them. Put simply, she could see though her hand.
In a panic, she slammed the back of her hand painfully against the windowsill, temporarily relieved that she made impact instead of something crazier like phasing though the architecture. The sense of relief didn't last long, however. There was no telling when that fear would actually become reality. The last foreign words echoed in her mind, and the finally clicked together in her brain and made sense.This was what the priestess meant.
Yume was a being that should never had existed.
A song played in the background; a song that she shouldn't recognise. It never should have existed, but she moved in a dance that felt like a blur to her mind, but was nothing but natural to her body. She watched herself in the studio mirror, making sure that her form was impeccable. Sloppiness isn't something that she tolerated in her work. For a brief moment, the dance asked for a spin. She had only taken her eyes off her reflection for just a second.
Yume stumbled over her feet, tipping over in balance and instinctively shooting her hand out to brace the impact against the mirror. Her hand met with the cool surface of the mirror, real image against reflection. She exhaled in relief, grateful that she hasn't injured herself in any way. That'd be a hassle to explain to her manager. Another sigh of relief escaped her lips as she went to push herself back upright. Eyes trailing down to her hand on the mirror, she paused... and stared just a little longer.
The reflection of her hand twitched on its own.
Her head shot up to meet a pair of eyes that were as blue as hers. The face and hair wasn't the same though... Hair... Black as ink and dead straight in a princess cut. Face... Refined, older with a lovely smile that somehow unnerved the hell out of Yume instead. Clothes, even... They were of a priestess.
Yume had never seen this person in her life, yet it felt like she was supposed to know her.
"Who are you?" she dared to ask. The baby blue eyed priestess tilted her head to the side curiously, breaking the illusion of reflection. That kind smile never left her visage. Her lips moved delicately, soundless in voice, but the answer echoed into her mind like a splitting headache.
"I am you now."
With a half groan and a half screech of pain, Yume collapsed to her knees. Her hands clutched at her head as her body curled up and waiting for reverberating pain to settle. Now? Yume stared down at herself as each perceived second ticked away the discomfort. Her red hair fell over her eyes. Her clothes were plain but well tailored. She was not what this reflection claimed to be.
"W-What do you mean?" Yume demanded weakly, eventually finding the resolve to lift her head. The priestess in the mirror still stood, like a looming tower, in silence. Finding herself without any more strength, it didn't stop the girl from pressing on.
"That sounds ridiculous!" she snapped, grabbing a lock of her red hair as if to prove something. "You look and sound nothing like me! You are obviously not me! I'm me!"
The expression of the mysterious reflection peered down at Yume in what looked like pity, only to be met back with a glare.
"You and I are..." the woman started slowly, surprising the idol with a lack of a painful reverb this time. The thought was too soon, as the finished sentence tore into her subconscious like a bad memory trying desperately to burrow through.
"Kiseki."
Yume cried out, "Stop! Don't call me that!" Her hands found themselves back against her head, curled up to shell away from both the pain in her head and the name. "I'm Yume... My name is Yume!"
She wasn't sure what made her lift her head this time. All she could see was the muted red fabric of the priestess's hakama. Then the priestess knelt down to her face level, staring with a smile that gradually grew smaller and smaller until it was a deadpan.
"Kiseki..." the woman called her by that accursed name in such gentleness, Yume had half the mind to punch this mirror into oblivion. The other half wanted to cry. Perish the thought quickly however, because the mirror was already starting to crack on its own. The pretty priestess was breaking apart upon her last words.
"You... we are quite literally... an anomaly who shouldn't even exist."
The glass shattered. Yume awoke, startled with the sound still ringing in her ears until it softly faded into silence. It was dark, with the thick curtains of her bedroom shielding away the morning sunlight. It had been only a couple of days since her discharge and with the insistence of her manager, she was mainly stuck at home to rest to full capacity. Yume found herself groaning and rolling over in her lush bed, as if she was about to sleep again. Her mind stopped her though, warning of the dream that didn't fade away to obscurity like the others. It replayed clearly in her mind. Yume clutched tightly to the sheets against her and sat up a minute after.
What time was it? Plodding herself over to the window, she pulled back the curtains and shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness with her other hand. What a beautiful day, she would have thought if the dream didn't permeate her mind anymore. But the priestess's face was still as clear as day, as if she had to be someone real. She had to be someone she met before, right? The people you meet in dreams were always people that you have met in real life, no matter how tiny and significant the moment was. The subconscious was a powerful--and scary--thing.
Yume began to lower her hand from her eyes, only to freeze mid-action in disbelief, and possible horror. Her hand, as faint as it was, but it was still present... She could see the faint obscured sunlight behind them. Put simply, she could see though her hand.
In a panic, she slammed the back of her hand painfully against the windowsill, temporarily relieved that she made impact instead of something crazier like phasing though the architecture. The sense of relief didn't last long, however. There was no telling when that fear would actually become reality. The last foreign words echoed in her mind, and the finally clicked together in her brain and made sense.This was what the priestess meant.
Yume was a being that should never had existed.
The memories of the days after release of hospital were a blur and blend together. Hard to distinguish one day from the next, despite the level of work she did in order to prepare for the tour that was just creeping ever closer. However, this one fateful day was very distinct.
"This... This is your album cover, isn't it?" Yume said, confused. No, wait. No it wasn't. It looked similar to an album of Kotone's but it wasn't exactly it. This one was much more intricate in design. Jun frowned at the slip of paper, unsure whether to be concerned or relieved. Kotone noticed. Unluckily for Yume, she didn't.