5 - Masanori
In the darkness of his own mind, Masanori trembled.
He was on his side, staring up at the rice paper walls, where old blood dripped and dried along the cages of painted dragons. The beasts lifted their heads as Masanori rose, vile lilac mist pooling around their snapping mass.
This dream, so regular now that Masanori became lucid within its essence, did not need to fully take hold in his mind for him to latch on to the scent of burning flesh and hair. He did not need to turn his face to glimpse the corpses of his family on the backs of his eyelids, to see Hidekazu's vacant expression, to hear the screams or blubbering moans.
A crimson settled around Masanori's stiff body, and he turned, the dead part of him already desensitized to finding Aihi's body at his side. Dead, lik
