Sixteenth Century Japan
Judai looked up to find himself in his wooden bed. His mother rushed into the room, a terrified look on her face.
"Judai!" She shouted, running up to him and grabbing his arm. Judai felt himself being dragged out of his bedroom and into their small kitchen. His father stood by the front door, bags in hand.
"Where are we going?" Judai asked, curiously looking at the bags in his father's hands.
"It's not safe here anymore. The soldiers are coming." Judai's father replied.
Judai's mother grabbed his arm again and dragged him out of the house. The once beautiful grass was now burnt and red. Dozens of dead bodies were scattered across the village. Judai looked down and recognized one corpse as the local baker, Shizuka.
Judai leaned down to inspect some of the corpses, when he felt his mother's hand slip from his grasp.
"Mother!" Judai shouted, looking around for any sign of his mother and father. The fields were now surrounded by fire, which Judai had not seen before.
"Mother!" Judai ran through the fields, being careful to avoid the fire, but his sandal collided against a rock and he felt himself slip down onto his back.
When he looked up, he was completely surrounded by flames. He tried to bat the flames away but found his hand burned by the flames.
He put his arms over his head and tried to shield himself from the flames. The flames were getting much closer now. He could feel them tearing at the soles of his feet and inwardly bit back a scream. The flames shrieked as they closed in on him. He closed his eyes desperately, trying not to look at the flames but found himself completely entranced by their demonic dance. The shrieks of the flames grew louder, and like a tidal wave, they collapsed on him. He wasn't sure if the screaming was the flames or his own.
...
Judai woke up with a start in bed. He heard a yelling sound before he realized that the yelling had come from him. His elderly mother, Ayako rushed into the room. Despite being his mother, Ayako had looked nothing like the mother in his dream. Whenever he tried to ask them about his dreams, Ayako callously shrugged them off and gave him chores to do.
"Judai!" Ayako exclaimed, her voice full of panic. She ran over to his bed and placed a wrinkly hand on his forehead. "Are you alright, Judai?"
Judai shrugged Ayako's hand off of his forehead. "Yes, mother. I just had that dream again."
"Oh. Well. Try to be more quiet." Ayako's voice was now cold and emotionless.
Judai knew better than to try and argue with Ayako. Any time he tried to ask her why she hated talking about the past so much, she would snap at him and end the discussion.
Judai leaned back onto his pillow and found himself unable to sleep. He looked around the room, hoping for some kind of comfort. The room had looked nothing like the bedroom in his dream. Nothing made any sense at all. For months, he'd been plagued by this same dream. He didn't know what the dream was trying to tell him. That place in his dream had seemed so familiar. And the woman, she had a warm feeling about her. Even though it was a dream, Judai felt safe when her hand was clasped in his, and felt genuine panic when her hand slipped from his grasp.
Ayako would never lie to him...right?