Because We're Young
It's been a while since I've had dreams like those that a normal teenager would have.
Dreams that a teenager would have. They definitely wouldn't be pure.
I'm not talking about making it to the Koshien[1] finals or winning an Olympic gold medal or getting into college. Nothing serious like that.
"Lately, I haven't had any of those dreams."
"What dreams?"
My friend Murata is snuggled under the kotatsu[2] in my room, watching the Hakone Ekiden[3] while peeling tangerines. He puts the white stringy bits inside the rounded empty peel.
"These dreams you're talking about, you mean 'spring dreams', sexual fantasies?"
"Spring... That, well I suppose you're right."
I stick my legs into the warm kotatsu, listening attentively to the televised relay race.
I don't feel like watching track and field competitions, and I'm just waiting to see the baseball players on the next show, anyway.
"Are spring dreams all that interesting? Even if you're up on cloud nine in the dream, surrounded by beautiful women, won't you just be even more disappointed when you wake up? I don't want those kinds of dreams!"
"I guess they're interesting enough. I'd like to be welcomed by the ladies even if it's just in a dream. But actually I haven't had the chance to dream about a harem."
"Eh? You can't even get your wishes granted in your dreams?"
"Yeah, most of my dreams involve just happening to bump into celebrities I've never met before, or ending up with girls from other classes who I've never really spoken to. I have no idea why my dreams always follow this type of pattern."
"Like that, huh..." Murata, his mouth full of oranges, clicks on the remote - the channel we were watching before had cut to commercials. "Could it be that you watch so much TV that you've absorbed it into your dreams? But why don't you pick better partners? The girls in the other class, if you dream about someone you've argued with before, won't you wake up in a bad mood? As for the celebrities, that's pretty common."
"Yeah...you're right. It's really weird, but I often dream of that bitch from class 2, the one who everyone's afraid of; the one who can even make some people cry."
Murata, his fingers sticky with orange juice, licks his fingers while smiling at me and says, "Could that be a reflection of your personal interests?"
"What do you mean by personal interests! Are you saying I like fierce women?"
"Indeed, indeed. Perhaps hidden within the depths of your unconscious mind lies your dream lover, who stands beside your pillow every night."
"Wouldn't that be a ghost? Eh— but that... It can't be... So what you mean is, that type of girl and that type of girl and that type of girl are all my type?"
"Really, Shibuya. You've already had sex with that many people in your dreams? Careful now, or they'll start coming after you to take responsibility."
"Ah, you don't have to worry about that. It always ends before the main event!"
"It ends?"
"Yeah."
Because right at the critical moment, something always interrupts, or I'll just wake up by myself, all confused. I can never get to the happy end.
If I can manage a kiss, that's great. Sometimes I'm unlucky and can only end up shaking hands.
Even though I occasionally succeed in breaking past this checkpoint, and I have the opportunity to go on to a more intense stage, the other person's face will suddenly turn into that of my mother's or my elementary school principal's.
Because of this, my suffering upon waking up is a hundred times worse than the average person's.
Then again, I can't say if other people have dreams like mine.
"Anyway, if my dreams always cut off at the key moment, that's like being intercepted by a porn goalie."
"It's a lot like hotel pay-per-view, where you have to pay to see what comes next."
"What a scam! If I don't have money, I can't have happy dreams? Is there inequality between the rich and the poor even in this?"
"Now hold up. The rich don't need to rely on that sort of unrealistic dream because they can go around picking up real girls or buying porn on DVDs. But... Shibuya, hearing you say this puts me at ease."
"How so?"
We flip back to the live broadcast of the race - commercials are over.
"Because now I know you're interested in things besides baseball. Ah, so you have fantasies about girls after all..."
"It doesn't matter if I'm interested. Spring dreams will come anyway, right?"
My friend pushes up the oval lenses of his glasses. He bluntly says, "I've almost never had those types of dreams. But that doesn't matter; the most important thing is the quality of sleep. And anyway, that was not the content of my dream yesterday."
"You haven't had those dreams... What does that mean? You're not just talking about recently? Murata, are you really a teenager? Or have your kidneys already failed?"
"Kidneys... That's crazy. It's not like I'm abusing them."
Just as I'm about to ask Murata, "What dreams do you usually have?" I'm interrupted by cheers coming from the TV. The first contestant has just passed the relay station.
I'm not really interested in track and field, so I lay on the floor with my nose buried in my dog's ear. I just ate some zoni[4] a while ago, so I'm still full. There's also the kotatsu keeping my legs and waist nice and toasty. I break into a huge yawn, bringing more oxygen into my body, but it's already too late.
It's a quiet New Year's afternoon. I'll just close my eyes for a bit.
I cover my ears as a nearby explosion booms.
Artillery shells fly across the horizon, slamming into and destroying the side of a building.
"This... What's going on?"
This is a dream.
I fell asleep and now I'm in a dream.
Several soldiers, their uniforms covered with dust, clutch at their helmets as they charge ahead.
There are people pulling wagons or holding children; they silently advance in the same direction.
All around I see cracked roads, mountains of rubble blocking paths, and lost children standing in front of the collapsed doors of their homes, laughing.
I'm rooted to my spot in the middle of the road. I'm in the way; I'm constantly being bumped into by the people coming and going, but no one apologizes to me.
They hit me as they pass. But it's like I'm not even there. They keep to themselves and continue on their way.
After a short while, I see a group of people in the distance carrying a large crate. Six of them, with the rectangular crate hoisted on their shoulders.
"A coffin...?"
The top of the lid is decorated with what appear to be short-stemmed wildflowers picked from somewhere nearby.
The person with empty eyes who walks at the head of the funeral procession is...
"Murata! What are you doing here?"
Although I'm desperately shouting at him, he doesn't notice. He passes right by.
"Wait! Murata, who... Who is it?"
Murata, his eyes dead, looks over in my direction. His glasses look a bit strange; the frames seem old-fashioned.
"...It's me."
"Huh?"
"The person who died is me."
The shells pound the streets once more. Their sound makes me remember.
This is a dream. It's not real.
I don't know why Murata is here, but this is my nightmare. I grasp Murata's shoulders and shake him hard — I have to wake him up.
"Wake up, Murata! Let's not stick around in such a dangerous place; we have to wake up!"
No matter how I shake my friend or slap my own cheeks, we can't wake up. As we go along with the funeral procession, down the streets while the flames of war rage around us, we can't wake up.
"Shit. If we stay here, I'm going to have problems with my hearing and eyesight."
In order to break out of this dream, I smash my head into the coffin.
Ouch. That had to be enough pain to make me lose consciousness, but the scenery is still the same.
Just as I think, "Maybe both people have to break out of the dream at the same time?"—
A shell flew by in a perfect arc and landed right next to the funeral procession. I pull at Murata's hand, taking us away from the explosion. Suddenly, there was a strong force dragging me by the ear—
"You two little bastards!"
"Ah, it hurts!"
It feels like my ear is going to fall off any minute now. Murata and I scream at the same time.
I turn around to look at the TV screen and discover that the relay race is already over. Now there's a smiling anchorwoman wearing a kimono.
"Stop yelling! Even the neighbors can hear you!"
"B-brother..."
My ear still hurts really badly.
He probably feels so accomplished because he used such a cruel method to wake us up. My older brother, who's in a bathrobe, heads back to his own room. So now there's just the two of us; we both yawn almost at the same time.
"Sorry, Shibuya. Looks like I fell asleep."
"Haa— That's all right. It's just that it's easy to catch colds if you fall asleep in places you're not used to sleeping in. Your house only has central heating, no kotatsu."
"Nonono, that's not what I meant." He adjusts his glasses. "Just now, when I fell asleep, I pulled you into my dream."
"Eh..."
My friend, who had just been heading a funeral procession, smiles and says, "That was my dream."
"Murata, do you usually have those kinds of scary dreams?"
"Actually, there's nothing to be scared of. Shibuya, that dream was just a dream. But apparently, that was something that actually happened a long time ago. For me, it's something that gives me a heavy heart."
Murata rolls the oranges around on top of the kotatsu; he digs his fingers into my dog's fur.
"Anyway, is it okay if we don't get New Year's cards? Didn't you say you wanted to get them before your mom checks?"
"I had no idea something like that could happen—"
I'm in Blood Pledge Castle's huge underground laboratory, sitting backwards in a chair with my arms wrapped around the back.
In front of me is the notorious Poison Lady, Anissina, who's still up doing some late-night experimenting.
A small purple flask emits three geyser blasts of smoke.
It's cramped in here, but there are lights all around, illuminating every corner of the room. Maryoku flashlights and maryoku bedside lamps are both her inventions.
Most of my activities are carried out in the daytime, so I'm of the opinion that she could just do all her research in the morning. There's no need to wait until it's dark, especially not if it means using maryoku lights to carry out her experiments.
"What was it that you were saying? Something about entering someone's dream?"
"Yeah."
It's so late right now that even the Kotsuhizoku are sleeping underground.
Among the residents of the castle, only Anissina and the guards are awake.
I was just coming out of the bathroom when she accosted me. That's why I'm like this right now, fighting back the urge to sleep, telling her about my unbelievable experiences.
If I've been captured by Anissina, the Data Collection Devil (AKA the Red Demoness Researcher, the Mistress of Hypotheses, etc.; she has many nicknames), I have to tell her at least one incredible experience or she won't let me go. Even in the dead of night, she won't be courteous to you.
"However, a situation like that is not completely impossible."
"It's not impossible?"
"Yes. If the two people are sleeping close to each other, they have a warm relationship, and are on the same wavelength, it's not impossible to enter another person's dream."
"But finding someone who's on the same wavelength as you is really hard, isn't it? Anissina, please listen to me for a bit. It would be dangerous if I could slip into someone's dream so easily. I wouldn't want to go out there."
"True... Finding a human who matches you in all requirements... No, finding a mazoku who matches you in all requirements is a very difficult thing to accomplish. To put it simply, the probability of this occurrence is extremely small. To give a more complex explanation, it's not like saying 'The neighbor's wall has been built! Oh, how cool!' or anything as simple as that..."
"Sorry, I don't understand."
I give up.
As Lady Anissina checks the contents of a small bottle, she murmurs, "Men these days are all like this."
In her eyes, the position of Maou means absolutely nothing.
"Since the probability is so small, you're not guaranteed to find a match in any given lifetime. The vast majority of the world's people will never be able to enter others' dreams. I hear there are quite a few mazoku who even say, 'Ah— how boring, that I'll never go into other people's dreams,' or 'I'd like to see what others are dreaming just once before I die!' or 'Yamada-kun, please take away my cushions[5]' as their last words. But with my, the Poison Lady Anissina's, genius combined with maryoku, I've managed to create a great masterpiece, this..."
Anissina takes out a large, circular throw pillow and a microphone.
"Super Maryoku-powered Sleep Machine, Dream— Theatre—!"
"D-dream Theatre?"
"Yes. Just place this pillow next to the test subject, and then pretend to sleep on it while holding the microphone. Even if you don't match up at all, you can still force your way into their dreams. But if your acting is rotten and the other person finds out about you, it still won't stop working. The user must bear the consequences."
"W-what? If I just use this, I can go into anyone's dream?"
"Yes."
I'm so surprised that I'm doing a goldfish impersonation with my mouth as I point at Anissina's 'Dream Theatre'. "If it's that easy, why don't you try it out yourself?"
"Because I hate testing products by myself!" After her curt reply, she adds another sentence: "Besides, I don't have much of an interest in seeing others' dreams. If Your Majesty would like to be a lab rat, please go right ahead."
"D-did you just say 'lab rat'?"
"No, I didn't say anything at all."
After listening to the instructions one more time, I take the machine (calling it a pillow would be more appropriate) and head back to my own room.
Wolf is sleeping like the dead. All I hear is the "gugupi, gugupi" of his regular snoring.
"Wolf!"
There is no response, it's just a sleeping bishounen.[6]
I put the dream pillow next to the guy whose sleeping face is like an angel's, and then I grab the microphone and stand on top of it.
Maybe it's because I tired myself out this morning, because after I thought, "Now I just have to pretend to sleep," I was only able to count, "One, two, three," before I actually fell asleep.
Whoa! I'm not Nobita[7]! Whew...
"Sand..."
The scene inside Wolfram's dream is that of neverending desert.
He stands motionless, alone in the middle of the boundless desert where not even a single cactus grows from the parched earth.
When he's awake, he's obviously talkative and energetic. I didn't expect that he'd come to this sort of desolate place when he sleeps. I want to go over there and shout out his name.
"Wolf... Ahh—!"
We both screamed at the same time.
Suddenly, a monster surges up from beneath the sands.
"S-sand bear!"
Even in a dream, he meets his sworn enemy. Presumably, this is something that he's experienced before, and it must have caused him lasting psychological damage.
"Wolf!"
I struggle to pull Wolfram up from the sand bear's lair with only my right hand. But because our legs are trapped in the shifting sands, we're unable to make it out of the slope no matter how hard we push.
The yellow dust and frightened look on his face is ruining his pretty boy looks.
The two of us use all our strength to get out of the sand bear's trap. Now that he's more clear-headed, the headstrong third son breathlessly thanks me.
"Yuuri, m-my feet were stuck today. Thank you for coming to save me. Thank you very much..."
"What are you saying... You're being so polite to me all of a sudden. It feels so wrong... Ah, seems like it really is a dream, huh..."
Actually, I broke into someone else's dream.
I hold on to the spare key that the thoroughly prepared Lady Anissina had given me. With it, I secretly slip into my tutor's spotless room.
At first, I was scared of being discovered, but Günter's completely wrapped up in silk sheets and silk pajamas right now, enjoying his beauty sleep.
I used to look forward to seeing this because the most gorgeous man in the whole country asleep under the moonlight must be a beautiful sight...
"Why is he wearing a sleep mask..."
He's probably the type of person who can't sleep if there's even the tiniest bit of light.
Repeating the same steps as before, I enter Lord von Kleist's dream.
Huh?
Just as I start to wonder why it's so dark all around, I discover that it's not that the light in the surrounding area is dim, but that right before my eyes is an impressive crowd of people all wearing black clothes.
Looking ahead, all I can see are black clothes, black hair, black eyes in the crowd.
"Ah, wah!"
Those people are all "me"! Looking back and forth at them, every single one is me, except for a few small differences.
Compared with the original me, they seem a lot gentler, and also a lot more dazzling.
The gigantic group of "me" all looked toward me after hearing my voice.
Fuck—!
It's Twenty-Four Eyes[8] of me... No, it's 101 Dalmations of me.
"S-save me...!"
In the end, I scare myself awake with my own voice. Lord Günter von Kleist... is a man who has nightmares.
Lord von Voltaire is a professionally trained soldier, so even the tiniest sound could disturb him.
That's why somebody proposed that I use "Maryoku-powered Amazing Slippers" and then gave me a pair of really fluffy luxury slippers.
The soles are thick, so it's got great silencing effects.
I quietly open the door with the spare key, but then when I step inside, I almost scream.
Is this a kid's room?
It's not so much a kid's room, but more like a young girl's room?
Because all the shelves are covered in knitted animals and cute accessories, his sword and other equipment are neatly placed in the corner.
No matter how I look at it, I still think that swords and military equipment would be better suited for the owner of this room, but if I dig any deeper into this mystery, I'll only end up embarrassing him.
I figure that just seeing the way this room is furnished is enough; there's no need to invade his dream. But I promised Anissina that I would gather data on everyone, so I'll have to repeat the familiar task.
Gwendal wrinkles his forehead in his sleep; I can't help but want to reach out and touch them.
But if I did something as bold as that and woke him up, then there will be big trouble, so I have to fight the urge.
Logically speaking, I should have been able to enter his dream with no problem, but nothing is changing in my surroundings.
Looking around, it's still wall to wall filled with stuffed animals.
Although it's night, there's still a little bit of light, kind of like the faint light entering the room on an early spring morning.
"If I'm in his dream world, it's not much different from the real world, so I'm not sure about... Whoa!"
My worries were unfounded.
It's a dream, it's a dream, this is clearly a dream.
I was so scared by the Gwendal that suddenly appeared in front of me that I had to repeat that three times.
"M-mascot costume?"
Because what he's wearing is a "MADE IN GWENDAL" mascot costume.
"What's the matter?"
"N-nothing's the matter... That frog is actually really cute."
His forehead wrinkles immediately deepen.
"This is an oriole—!"
"Eh?! Really? How can an oriole be that sort of bright green color? If you have to say that it's a bird, then wouldn't it be a mejiro[9]? Anyway, it looks really cute, so it doesn't matter what it is!"
"That's true..."
Lord von Voltaire has become strangely contented; he happily hands over something that had been hanging from the back of a chair.
"Then you should wear this too."
"What? Th-this can't be?"
"It's an ostrich. It's very cute!"
Looking at him wearing the mascot costume, his face all smiles, I can't help but want to fulfill his dreams.
But this ostrich costume... It's, ah, very subtle.
Finally, I come to the second son Lord Weller's room. Even I know that there's not much in the way of decorations in this room, but Wolf and I also know... that this room isn't locked.
Because no one's inside.
This room is not bare, but seems deserted.
The clothes, books, candle holder, change of boots, and even toiletries remain untouched in their original places. But even so, there's the feeling that this room is empty.
There's no fire in the furnace, and no smell of burning firewood.
I'm reluctant to leave; I secretly think, "Maybe there's something worth staying here for," but this dry atmosphere crushes all those expectations.
This room, which suddenly lost its occupant, is freezing cold, as if refusing any future tenants.
"So cold..."
I pull my arms in and start rubbing my palms together.
I hunch over and prepare to leave in order to get out of the biting cold.
Right at that moment, as I blinked, I thought I saw something either red or white flying in the middle of the room.
"Cherry blossom...?"
How could there be cherry blossoms in a place like this?
And the person to whom this room belongs isn't here anymore. There's no way I could have slipped into his dream world.
Lady Anissina von Karbelnikoff, the expert in staying up late, is having a cup of tea while waiting for me to return from collecting data.
"I'm back."
"Your Majesty, you're finally back. You've had a hard day's work."
Who taught her how to speak this kind of weird Japanese?
If Anissina starts talking like this, Greta will definitely follow her.
Please spare me.
"Your Majesty, how was 'Dream Theatre'?"
"I was seriously shocked! It was a really surprising experience!"
"I see you're even at a loss for words. Please allow me to hear of Your Majesty's experiences."
As I give an account of the three dreams, Anissina nods and listens intently. Occasionally, she even takes notes during my clumsy explanation.
"This... In the desert with the sand bear, many copies of Your Majesty, and mascot costumes, is it? How strange..."
"What's strange about it?"
Lady Anissina raises the corners of her mouth in a tiny smile. This action makes her appear extremely knowledgeable, and also makes it impossible for one to deny that she's beautiful.
"I think that their dream worlds have been eroded. Before Your Majesty arrived in this country, we seemed to have all come to the same conclusion, that we would only dream of war. Whether asleep or awake, it was all about invading territories, making alliances and secret treaties, and of course the faces of men recently killed in battle. How is it that all the dreams are now about sand bears and mascots? It's as if the whole castle is populated with weak children."
That's what she says, but she's still smiling. She takes back the 'Dream Theatre', looking truly pleased.
"...Oh my!"
She carefully plucks something up between her index and middle fingers.
"There's a flower petal I've never seen before... Is it from Your Majesty's birthplace?"
"Is that possible? Maybe it is."
I take the petal from between Anissina's fingers and close my palm around it.
It won't melt like snow—
Stay in my hand forever.
References:
1. Koshien is a baseball stadium where two major Japanese high school baseball tournaments, colloquially known as "Spring Koshien" and "Summer Koshien", are held. Summer Koshien is the largest amateur sporting event in the country.
2. Low table with a blanket or futon wedged between the frame and the table top. There's usually a heat source, like a small electric heater, placed underneath or attached to the underside of the table.
3. A relay race taking place during New Year's celebrations.
4. Mochi soup, traditionally eaten on New Year's.
5. Yamada Takao (山田隆夫), an actor. He was once a regular guest on the comedy program Shōten (笑点), in which comedians compete to see who can tell the best jokes. The funniest person, as judged by the host, would gain a zabuton cushion each round until s/he was sitting on a large pile of cushions. A special prize is awarded for reaching 10 cushions. Unfunny jokes are punished by having cushions taken away.
6. Dragon Quest parody. In the fantasy RPG series Dragon Quest, checking a corpse will result in a dialogue box saying, "There is no response, it's just a corpse."
7. One of the main characters in Doraemon. Nobi Nobita is the kid Doraemon often helps.
8. Reference to the Japanese film, Twenty-Four Eyes (二十四の瞳 Nijū-shi no Hitomi)
9. The mejiro, or Japanese White-eye, is a small green bird with a distinctive white eyering.
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