His eyes still haunted her dreams. She saw no face; no features at all other than those eyes. She didn't know who they belonged to, but she was sure she never wanted to find out.
She hadn't told anyone about the dreams – she didn't want to worry the only people who would care. So she keps it to herself, hiding nothing else yet still succeeding in the art of deception.
Recently, she'd stopped thinking of them as dreams, and instead as memories – things that, had they been less frightening, she would have treasured. Because memories are a very special thing to Yuuki Kuran. . . seeing as she doesn't have any from before the age of 13.
You're thinking, the poor girl. You're imagining how you could live if you were missing a vital 13 years of your life. Yuuki didn't think that way. In fact, she rufused to let in affect her in any way other than cherishing the memories she made thereafter that much more; she was the type who would let nothing short of an earth-shattering disaster get her down.
So, the memory loss – sure, it was inconvenient, but it wasn't the end of the world. Given the choice, though, she'd like to kow her real family.
Unless, that is, the man with the heterochromatic eyes was a relative. She shuddered even to think.
