From the moment Ainosuke began to regain consciousness, he knew something wasn't right. His back was supported by something that was too hard to be his bed, the temperature was cool, and his body felt... heavier. Sliding one of his hands out to his side, grasping for the side of his bed, he only found concrete to grasp at. No. No, this was definitely wrong. Ainosuke suddenly sat up, wavering a bit from the rush of blood to his head as regained his composure, fighting the urge to fall back on the ground. The more aware he became of his body, the more ill he started to feel.

Rolling over, Ainosuke put his hands on the ground and then pushed himself up, starting to look around. He was definitely outside, having been laying on the sidewalk next to a building. But... how had he gotten there? He stood still for a moment, taking in his surroundings, which had temporarily distracted him from anything else he might have been thinking about. This place didn't look right. It felt wrong. ... it scared him, as much as he didn't want to admit something like that to himself. What kind of dream was this?

He shuffled out of the small side street, pausing in his steps once he reached what looked to be a main road.

... were those...? What were those?

Ainosuke stared at a coffin a few feet away from himself. There was another, further down the sidewalk. A few more on the other side of the street, all of them... standing. Pressing his lips together, Ainosuke took a few steps back, turning and running off in the opposite direction. He didn't want to look. If this was his dream, he didn't want to know who could be inside of those coffins. Not after the last dream he'd had where his older brother had killed the people most important to him.

Once he'd started running, Ainosuke didn't stop, but the scenery didn't change. There were still coffins with the odd colored moon above them, the air heavy with a sense that something was wrong.

This can't be real. It can't be. I've got to wake up...