Artemidorus of Daldis once said something that every dream a person experiences carries its own interpretation— never universal, but tailored to the dreamer alone. Like an oracle, it is intimate, whispering only to the one it belongs to, guiding them in matters of their own life.
Sometimes, dreams also follow patterns.
Suga was certain he was dreaming now. He found himself standing in a darkened room, when suddenly two points of red light emerged, drifting toward him before circling around. His pulse quickened, he was sure he had dreamed this before.
One of the red lights, flickering like a firefly, floated close— hovering just beside his cheek. Suga flinched, instinctively leaning away, but the light didn't retreat far. It lingered, only to draw near again, brushing close as if to test him.
