[i][b]~He's alone. He's nowhere, there is nothing to see, hear, smell, touch, there is nothing. He cries to the darkness, but even his own voice has no power. Bringing his hands up he grips his throat, but he can't feel it. Terror fills him, the sheer helplessness sapping his strength. Then suddenly, blinded! The darkness erupts into flames. A wall, high and stretching into either direction before him as far as the eye can see. The heat feels warm, but he feels no comfort from the sensation. He moves towards the fire, wholly against his will, his fear mounting as he closes in on the red orange depths. The flame licks his skin, but still there is no burn. Beyond the flame he can hear now the muted sounds of suffering. Human voices crying out in shear agony. Tears spring to his eyes, though he can not feel them fall. Suddenly, from the fire, a hand, and arm. They come shooting out and his heart nearly stops as it grips him by the shoulder. The touch is soft, but more frightening than one could ever imagine. . .~[/b][/i]

With a scream Amano sits up, panting hard. His sweat glistens on his body in the moonlight pouring through the window. His eyes stare blankly at the covers, twisted and tossed about as if he'd been thrashing in his sleep. Sharp ragged gasps are the only sound in the silent room. His hands curl into fists as he feels the tears from his dreams now. They pour down his cheeks and eventually drip down on to the covers clenched in his fists. [i]'It was just a dream. I had to be, all of it, all just a dream, it can't. . .'[/i] Finally managing to blink a few time he filches at the feeling before glancing down at himself. His heart rate, which had begin to fall, speeds up again as he spots the wounds from the knife on his arms. Pushing the covers down he lets out a whimper at the ones on his legs.

[i]'It wasn't a dream. They were, I was. In a basement, chained, how did I get?'[/i] He sobs slightly, pulling the covers up to his chest. Breathing hard for a few seconds he suddenly freezes when he recalls what happened just before he passed out. [i]'Someone came. Someone, in fire. They came, and asked me. . . What I wanted. What I wanted him to do'[/i] He takes in a sharp breath. [i]'Yes, a him. He was bare, like me. . . .Maybe they tried to sacrifice him too, in another room or something, but then. . . .'[/i] His thoughts falter as he gets the sensation of not being alone. He looks first to the door, and it's in that moment that he realizes that he's not in his own room. Forgetting the feeling of not being alone he looks down at the bed and back to the door.

“This looks like an Inn. Why am I. . . .?” The feeling comes back again, sharper, and Amano's head snaps around to the window. His breath catches in his throat. The figure sitting there is looking in his direction but Amano's eyes trail over the curves and plains of his body before moving up to look in his eyes. Something about those azure blue depths fill him with both comfort and fear. Unable to control his reaction Amano practically falls backwards off the bed, sheet in hand. He back away, barely holding up the sheet against his chest to cover himself. “What, how? What happened? Wh-who are you? What are. . .?” His thoughts scatter as he stumbles backwards into the door. The smooth lacquered surface feels strange against his bare flesh and he jumps away from it with a yelp. His whole body shakes as he tries to figure out what's going on.