Lucid Dreams

I had control over everything that happened in my dreams, if need be. However, I didn't have control over the twelve year old with spiky, obsidian colored hair and orange googles that popped up whenever he wanted.

Prologue

Every time during the summer, I never fail to find something that manages to keep me up day and night which initiated my insomnia. Last summer, it was creative writing, the summer before that one, it was drawing, and before that summer, it was binge watching anime. However, this summer, I found an odd hobby.

Lucid dreaming.

It was hard getting the hang of it and learning certain techniques like WILD, LILD, MILD, and other –ILD sounding techniques. In the beginning, I'd just fall right to sleep and forget I was practicing lucid dreaming. Nevertheless, I got the hang of it after a couple of weeks of hardcore practice.

However, one thing that really caught my attention—which is why I start practicing this in the first place—is that you had complete control over your dreams. Not even that, but that most times, they felt unbelievably weird that you'd have to perform reality checks so distinguish your dreams from real life. It was absolutely astonishing. It was one of the best hobbies I've taken up so far.

Like every other night, I was elated to go to sleep. I didn't necessarily have a bed time—and my mom thought it was weird for a twelve year old to be going to bed so early, time being eight—but lucid dreaming drove me to go to bed early. Though I got the hang of lucid dreaming, falling asleep was a problem for me as I was a bit too excited and eager for my dreams to come. Yet gradually, I'd fall asleep and would dream with no thought of lucid dreaming.

Luckily enough, I found my trigger which distinguished my normal dreams from my lucid ones. Said trigger was a pair of roller blades. I see why that was my trigger. When I was young, my mom would always teach me how to skate until I gradually learned how to use roller blades. We'd always skate up and down our neighborhood when we had the extra time to.

After realizing there were a bunch of roller blades against the corner, I realized that I was having a lucid dream. Looking around me, I noticed that I was standing in my own room which is wasn't out of the norm. I could easily change the layout of my dreams if I really wanted to. However for now, I decided it wasn't time yet. I waited to see what this dream had to offer me.

It wasn't long until a boy around my age with spiky, obsidian colored hair with eyes to match appeared in my room. He wore weird orange and blue attire with orange googles attached to his forehead. The panicked expression on his face threw me off. It was as if he was aware that he was in one of my dreams.

"W-Where am I?" He questioned after rubbing his eyes for nth time. "Who are you?! Why am I h-here?!" A frown etched into his face and I continued to stare at him with a blank expression. I was confused myself.

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" I asked after a pregnant pause of silence.

"What?" He asked, frown still purposely on his face.

"Nothing," I shrugged. "So, what's your name?" I went along with my dreams. My curiosity forbade me to change anything.

"H-Hey, aren't you going to answer any of my questions? I asked first anyway," he crossed his arms over his chest, pout quickly replacing his frown.

"Well, this is my dream…" I mumbled.

"D-Dream? Are you fucking with me?" The kid, no older than I was, furrowed his eyebrows. He clasped his hands together and mumbled something incoherently. "Not a genjutsu...?" he murmured and I only stared at him with a raised eyebrow before continuing to what I had to say.

"Anyways, yeah, this is my dream, well, my lucid dream. Ever heard of that?" I asked, only for him to shrug in response. "I get to control whatever happens in my dreams. Like, if I wanted a stack of pancakes right now, I could make that happen."

"For real?! You're not bluffing, are you?" The teen's attitude did a three-sixty as he was overjoyed with the thought of pancakes.

"Yeah, wanna see?" I asked, a smile forming on my own face. He nodded enthusiastically. I stared at my computer desk which was messy from my old schoolwork I never bothered to throw out. I casually blinked and there, sitting atop of my cluttered desk, was a plate filled with hot pancakes, melted butter, and sticky syrup poured over them. I looked at him with a smirk. "You can have them if you want."

"Don't mind if I do!" And he helped himself.

I sat Indian style on my bed whilst he sat on the hardwood floor, stuffing his mouth with buttery and maple syrup pancakes. "My name's Harper," I told him, expecting him to tell me his name as well.

After swallowing, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "The name's Obito," he grinned up at me. The grin quickly faded and his mouth drew into a thin line. "Why am I in your dreams anyway…" he mumbled, "don't you have to know or see a person before dreaming of them? If that's the case, how do you even know me? I've never seen you in my village and anyone could tell you apart from everyone else because your dark skin and you have light eyes."

"Is that not normal where you're from?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, referring to the combination of my dark skin and amazon green colored eyes.

"Nope," Obito answered, finishing his pancakes. "Mos' peeper hav' lightr skin an' dark color'd eyes." He tried to explain with his mouth full.

I smiled, amused. "Well, a lot of people are diverse here. There's people with extremely dark skin, and there's people with skin as pale as snow. Eye color essentially varies with their genetics," I shrugged. "But if what you were saying was a compliment, thanks."

"You're welcome…" he stated, obviously confused. He shook his head, getting right back on topic. "But yeah, why am I here?"

I shrugged, unable to give him an answer. "I dunno. My dreams do whatever they want to if I don't control them. The only thing I controlled so far was giving you some pancakes," I said, eyeing the now empty plate. "I'm sure I haven't seen you anywhere either. I don't know anyone with authentic, spiky hair… if it is authentic anyway," I mumbled the latter.

"Hey, I wake up like this every day," Obito defended. The twelve year old then stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, uh… do you mind waking up? I think I'm a bit late for meeting my squad," he smiled at me sheepishly.

I shrugged, "Sure. Hopefully I'll see you again, Obito."

"You too, Harper-chan." And with that, I woke up, sunlight pouring through my windows with Obito nowhere to be seen.

That was the strangest lucid dream I've had in a while.

A/N: Before anyone says anything, this story is inspired by Darkpetal16's Chipped Mask. It's actually a really good Self Insert story (and I highly recommend for everyone to read it) and I got an idea from it whilst reading it. It's not a complete carbon copy either as my story will have an entirely different plot.

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