"Tss… don't let me catch you crying again," scolded an overweight man, staring at a boy curled up in the corner.
"Is that clear?" he asked once more.
The skinny boy nodded quickly.
Satisfied with the positive response, the man gave a nod and left the room with a staggering gait.
A clear sign of drunkenness.
"Another one of those dreams…" the boy muttered, looking at the door his father had left open.
Or should he call him his sire instead?
That question didn't matter to Kallen, because he had another problem.
Who is Uraume?
(Image)
The young boy, barely eight years old, didn't understand why that name brought him both joy… and hunger.
…
**Bam.**
"Ouch! Why did you hit me!" complained the middle-aged man, touching the spot where he'd been struck.
He shot a dark glare toward the source of the blow.
"Sorry, but you seemed to be having a nightmare and my attempts to wake you up weren't working until now," explained Kallen's convenience store employee.
The man's annoyed expression softened a little at the explanation, then he muttered the word "again" in a voice too low to hear clearly.
Thirty years.
That was how many years had passed since Kallen first started remembering this dream from the point of view of an unknown "monster."
He didn't know exactly when these nightmares had begun in his life, but this infernal cycle had been going on for years.
It had reached a point where he was afraid to sleep, because he actually enjoyed the abominable acts committed by the "Monster."
Kallen was scared of developing a taste for it.
The only thing Kallen liked in that dream was the androgynous man. Sometimes he caught himself feeling more relaxed in his presence than even with his fiancée.
He would even describe those moments as pleasant, especially thanks to the androgynous man's exceptional cooking.
"Forget it, Jonathan. So, how are things today?" he asked, taking the documents from the young man's hands.
Jonathan put on a grim expression at his boss's question.
That was all Kallen needed to understand that the customer base was shrinking more and more.
"The big supermarket is really playing dirty," he thought with a sigh.
This convenience store was all he had left now, after investing all his starting capital from the army. However, Kallen wouldn't be able to delay its closure much longer using his personal funds.
He couldn't drag his other investments into the abyss because of one financial mistake.
Perhaps sensing his distress, Jonathan quickly cut off Kallen's train of thought.
"Uh, boss, maybe we should change our approach and diversify our services? Right now, people prefer ordering online… we're a bit behind on the tech side," he suggested, hesitant at first.
However, he quickly gained confidence.
Kallen listened and nodded.
For some reason, hearing Jonathan say he was behind technologically almost made him laugh.
Kallen had never liked innovations, for reasons he didn't understand.
He was more traditional.
Strangely enough, Kallen had found himself appreciating traditional Japanese clothing.
An inexplicable preference.
"Must have something to do with that dream," he thought as he nodded at his employee's suggestions.
Anyway, Kallen figured he had almost nothing left to lose with this small business.
Why not make one last attempt at success with Jonathan's ideas?
"Besides, I invested in real estate with my army savings. Paying off the bank loan for the convenience store won't be impossible," he analyzed coldly.
He didn't like the idea of putting his employees out of work. Nevertheless, Kallen had learned in the army that you needed good judgment and couldn't be guided by emotions.
If sacrifices had to be made for the mission's progress, then so be it.
"Thank you again, sir, for giving me free rein," Jonathan said, looking at his employer's back.
"You're welcome. It would benefit me if your plan works, kid, and…" He didn't finish his sentence before leaving the room.
Jonathan was confused but decided to chalk it up to Kallen's eccentricity.
"And you're like a little brother to me," had been the second part of the sentence.
Something Kallen would regret hesitating to say.
…
"Damn, it's cold," he muttered, looking at the night sky.
Kallen had given Jonathan free rein to try and improve the convenience store's situation. However, he had little hope.
So he left work earlier than usual.
"I hope Lucy doesn't catch a cold," he thought as he walked with his crutch.
Because of an injury from the army, he had lost the ability to walk normally.
He was disabled.
"Good evening, sir. What can I do for you?" asked a cheerful-looking young girl.
Seeing the welcoming expression on the teenager's face, Kallen unconsciously compared the girl to his fiancée Lucy.
"How long has it been since she last smiled at me like that?" he wondered inwardly.
The answer was obvious: before he left for the army.
A decision Kallen considered too hasty on his part, but he hadn't had a choice.
The dreams had stirred murderous impulses in him.
He didn't want to let that side of himself take over or accidentally hurt Lucy.
"Good evening. I want your best bouquet of flowers," he said, pointing at the reason for his visit.
A bouquet he judged beautiful enough to improve Lucy's mood.
After all, she had been growing more and more distant since his return from deployment in Afghanistan.
"Oh… you have good taste, sir. I hope the object of your affection is worthy of it," the young girl complimented.
Kallen simply replied in a low voice: "She certainly is."
Unconsciously, the white flower reminded him of his encounter with the little boy in that dream.
The boy had kept white hair even into adulthood.
Something abnormal by Earth's standards. However, Kallen considered it just a dreamlike aspect of that world.
The teenager nodded at Kallen's words. Still, she felt a pang of jealousy toward the person occupying the mind of the man in front of her.
"Too bad my ex doesn't look at me with eyes like that," she thought as she finalized the transaction with the person standing before her.
It didn't take Kallen long to reach his apartment, since it wasn't far from his convenience store.
"Uh… why isn't the door locked?" he said to himself, frowning.
Something was wrong.
Kallen knew it instinctively, thanks to his rich experience on the field in Afghanistan and his dreams.
The atmosphere in his apartment was clearly not normal, according to his understanding of the place.
Unfortunately, he soon grasped the full extent of the situation.
If he had had a choice, Kallen would have preferred to come home at his usual time.
He would never have wanted to subject himself to this.
Never.