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The sounds of the river flowed heavily, spray flicking up on occasion just to splash into their faces. Nishikata looked to his left and saw the two girls next to him, asleep. He stood up, careful not to wake them, and made his way down the embankment to the large overhang they had found earlier.

The soft summer sun melted down onto his face, and he looked far and wide, taking in the entire view, pausing to reflect on his, arguably short, life. He looked down at the railing he was leaning on, just in time to see large cracks spread across the surface. But there was nothing he could do except watch on, as the railing snapped and fell down the sheer cliff, taking him along with it. Surprising himself, he felt nothing as he fell; the darkness brought quick relief.

Eyes creeping open, mind trailing his thoughts far behind he reached up, he flicked the light switch and groaned as the illumination chased the adrenaline from his veins. Nishikata had been on the receiving end of many such nightmares as of recent- the horrifying dream never seeming to end any other way than him dying.

Something had seemed different about this dream, however. Usually in his dreams, he was by himself – at most he only had one other phantom with him. But this time, he had been joined by the two people he had been closest with. He looked over to his clock to check the time: 6:29 am. Behind his curtains, the incessant sunlight battered his curtains, the thick wall keeping his room dark.

Deciding not to ponder too long on this oddity, Nishikata got up from his bed and started downstairs. He was halfway down when he realized that his phone was not in his pocket, causing him to rush back up. The gyroscopes on his phone detected him picking up his phone and toggled the screen on, shining its bright light into his groggy face.

The teardrops started slowly, but soon they turned from a small downpour to a torrential storm. Looking back at him from his phone screen was his favorite picture, all three of them together, smiling; the picture had been taken so long ago he could barely capture the furled memory of it in his mind. He missed it - truly - but he knew how hard it would be for them to become whole again. There was always going to be a missing piece.

A whisper of noise came from his bed, and as he looked over, he saw his alarm going off. 'Time for school, I guess'. He made his way back downstairs, pausing to look out the staircase window; the view was beautiful, the large orange mass setting the sky vibrantly ablaze as it crested over the horizon, sending blinding light all across the fields and houses.

It was difficult to focus on this, however, as for Nishikata, he was struck by an explosion of inspiration inside his head. Rushing downstairs, he cut straight to the paper box – breakfast completely forgotten – and started writing as hard as he could.

A/N: I forgot about this...

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