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He dreams of hollow, sunny islands that turn cold during the night. He dreams of blood and tears, of pain and betrayal, of the yearning need to protect those close to you, and of his friends - suffering and being killed.
Mostly, though, he dreams of a pretty girl.
She's got this pretty, light pink hair and these pale, pink eyes that are often closed due to her constantly falling asleep. She never gets enough sleep because she's always playing games, she says.
(And Hajime wonders if it could really be that simple.)
She ends her sentences negatively, often unsure of herself, despite the fact that she's so sure of others - compliments from her are never few and far between.
Hajime dreams of her over and over again, and in every dream, she's either gaming, sleeping or asking a question about basic information. But no matter what, she's always smiling.
(It's such a pretty smile, he thinks.)
For some reason, Hajime always wants to thank her, but he's not sure why. There's this unwavering feeling of gratitude towards a girl he only dreams of, and it's strange. Really, really strange.
It just slips out, one day.
"Thank you, Chiaki," he says, and then gets this feeling of deja vu, like he's already thanked her sometime before for the something that he needs to thank her for.
She smiles, and then she yawns, "You already told me that..." and Hajime is too wrapped up in his thoughts that he misses the "But you're welcome... I think" that spills from her lips.
(He wonders when he learned her name, or where he even learned it. Because for all the dreams he's had of her, not once have they exchanged names, nor has he ever asked for it. He simply felt he didn't need to, as strange as it is.)
The dreams stop after that. No more of the sleepy girl.
She just stops appearing. Hajime wonders why, for a time, afraid that the nightmares of murders and lost friends will come back, and he'll be stuck without the one, redeeming light to them.
Those nightmares don't come back, either.
He's saddened, simply because he got quite attached to the peaceful, serene nature of the dreams of the girl, whether they were on a two faced island or not. He misses her and her way of being able to sleep anywhere. He misses her smile, and her compliments.
(So when she comes back telling him, "Keep working on the future! You promised me, remember?" he smiles at her, and nods, understanding something that he doesn't actually remember.)
Hajime knows he'll see her again, so he continues on with his promise of working on the future, even though he doesn't remember making it.
He picks up a thing or two from the sleepy girl and her habits, and so when his friends are worrying over something, he doesn't. Things will be okay, he thinks - knows.
(She's proud of him, or at least that's what he can tell when she comes for the occasional visit. "I told you everything would be okay if you just did it."
And maybe he doesn't remember, but he is starting to understand, at the very least.)