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Strange things had been happening to Ryou lately.
He couldn't put his finger on it, but things were different. Things were odd.
He was having dreams - bright, vivid, immersive dreams. Dreams that felt so real he could have sworn that they were memories.
Dreams of hot, dry wind and coarse sand slipping from his fingers. Dreams of cloudy river water and cool mud that squelched with every step and coated his calves in a hard, glossy brown shell.
Dreams of night sky unblemished by city lights that bathed the world in cold, twinkling stardust and meandering galaxies, and as he looked up he couldn't help but trace the pattern of the milky way and remember the feeling of sticky river mud between his toes.
Dreams of a sun so large and hot and oppressive that he would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat with a thirst that felt unquenchable.
And then there were other odd things, like how he would go out for groceries and for a moment feel lost, even though he was taking the same path he had dozens of times before.
How the Saturday market with all the vendors would leave him with a feeling of longing and want, how he would for a moment catch a vision of a different market in a time and world far far away from the modern day Domino City.
How the scent of roast pork seemed to make his stomach queasy now, and how open flame gripped him with a terror that had not been there before.
He noticed little things too, things that he could not recall noticing before - like the haphazard grip a woman had on her handbag, or the bulging wallet sticking out of someone's pocket, or the gleam and shine of very, very nice looking watch.
It wasn't as if he could talk to anyone about what was going on. Amane and his mother had been gone for years now, leaving an open, festering wound where his heart used to be that never seemed to get smaller. His father had all but abandoned him, save for the barest interaction when it came to making sure Ryou still had a roof over his head and wouldn't go hungry… and his most recent gift.
It was a relic made out of gold. It should have been heavy. Ryou should have felt the weight on his chest, but it was light as a feather.
He couldn't bare to part with it, not even when he slept.
Within the strange things were normal things. Ryou still went to school. Ryou still tried - and often failed - to make friends.
Ryou had found a new hobby to occupy his time within his lonely apartment. Monster World, it was called, a new type of table top role playing game. Hopefully, if he learned how to make a good story, he could invite people from school to play and make some friends.
Monster World was very involved - one needed a lot of room, a lot of time, and plenty of patience in order to set up everything correctly and ensure a good, immersive game. Thankfully for Ryou, he had all of these things in ample supply.
He found one of his favorite aspects of the game were the miniatures. One afternoon after school he had spent hours at the local game store looking through the vast collection of monster, character, and NPC minis, his mind whirling with ideas and story lines for Monster World.
Ryou had selected one - only one - monster from the shelf of miniatures. He couldn't explain it, but it looked almost…
familiar.
The miniature was on his desk now, the meager paint set he had bought weeks ago bright with possibility.
Hesitantly, Ryou dipped his paintbrush first into the little water cup and then into… green. Yes, green would look nice on this monster.
Gingerly and with the utmost care the brush trailed over the tiny monster, coloring his scales in a dark mossy green.
Ryou swiped the brush over the tail which ended in a snakes head baring large fangs.
Dark green. Now what?
He rinsed the brush and dipped it into yellow this time, running it down the monsters middle.
The wings he painted purple. The horns black, the eyes red.
Ryou placed the paintbrush in the now muddy colored water and smiled at the monster, pleased with his progress.
He still had to come up with a name for the monster. He couldn't wait to show Amane -
Oh. That was right.
He tried to hold back the sob that caught in his throat, the tears suddenly blurring his vision and stinging his eyes, but it was too much too fast and he was so tired of crying, so tired of feeling like he was constantly floundering in an endless ocean of grief and longing for someone who could never, ever come back.
Mom was gone. Amane was gone. It had been years.
The gaping wound in his chest swallowed Ryou whole.
Ryou presssed his palms to his eyes and the sob he tried to keep locked in burst from his lips in an aching, keening wail.
The tears caught in his palms and slid down his wrists.
An hour passed and eventually he found himself in bed staring at the ceiling, the hole where his heart used to be a gaping maw that never seemed to stop weeping.
His eyes felt raw and swollen, and he sniffed again, feeling another tear leak out and roll down his cheek.
Loneliness was a well-worn blanket - devoid of warmth, but comforting in its familiarity.
The air was hot and he was thirsty.
He wasn't sure how long he had been walking or even when he had ended up here - a place of vast nothingness consisting of only sand and pristine blue sky.
The sun beat down on him, a relentless thing. He needed shade, and maybe water.
He couldn't feel the sand beneath his toes, but he continued to walk. And walk. And walk.
Where was he going? He didn't know. He couldn't remember. But his feet knew the way.
He climbed the ridge of the dune, avoiding the edges as the sand fell away beneath his feet and saw tree tops as he crested the summit.
The oasis unfolded before him, a small sprawling mass of spiky green palm fronds, feathery sea foam blue tamarisk, and wide soft fig leaves.
He laughed and ran the rest of the way to the waiting water, joy bright enough in his chest to rival even the suns rays.
He kicked off his slippers and waded in, savoring the cool sandy mud as it cushioned his aching feet. He bent down to cup his palms beneath the water and drank deeply.
As his hands fell away from his face he saw his reflection.
A dirty face greeted him and he grinned wide.
Pale grey hair and dusky purple eyes stared back at him and he lifted his grubby left hand to trace the scar running under his right eye…
He looked up, reflection forgotten and scanned the oasis. He was alone, save for the birds and insects he heard flying and flitting behind him in the brush.
Something released within him like a full body exhale and a large, brilliant white and silver winged snake shot past him, slithering through the air above the oasis. He looked up at the creature and grinned wide, splashing loudly in the water as he chased after it.
Its scales glimmered and shone like polished metal in the sky, so lustrous it was nearly blinding.
Laughter echoed over the oasis as the sun began its slow descent.
Ryou blinked open his eyes blearily, wincing as a stray stream of sunlight found its way through the curtains.
Yawning, he sat up and shuffled out of bed, noticing his hunger for the first time in what felt like forever.
Oddly, he didn't feel thirsty.
As he went to make breakfast, the mini he had left to dry on his desk last night caught his eye and he stopped.
Ryou stared at the monster, puzzled.
He could have sworn he had painted it green. And yellow. Purple and black.
The mini on his desk was the same monster, but painted now in tones of white, grey, and brilliant gleaming silver. Even the eyes!
Ryou picked up the monster and looked it over, eyes lingering on the fanged snakes head tail and for a moment he heard laughter and smelled green growing things and felt soft wet sand between his toes.
The name came to him as soft as an oasis breeze.
"I'll call you Diabound," Ryou whispered, smiling softly.
He heard laughter echoing across sun-drenched water and for what felt like the first time in forever, he did not feel alone.