Oh boy, this story was such a long time coming... It was originally meant to be 2011's Halloween fic, but ... as you can see, I definitely did not finish by that time.

This story is a 3-shot. However, the first two parts can be read independent of the third part, so they're going up first.

Aside from experimenting with the format of this fic, I'm also experimenting with the writing style. Fairy tale fun.

This is based off the Vocaloid song "The Black-White Dream-Eating Spirit" by Nem, sung by Len (Append). I loved it the moment I heard it and it set off a crazy plot bunny that ate my mind for hours on end.

This story's theme ... "Which is happier? Drowning in indulgence or settling for a compromise." ...or something like that. You'll see what I mean once part 3 is up.

I have nothing against Miku, personally. I swear.


Chapter 1

The Dream-Eater

Once upon a time, in another country, maybe in another world, there was a city.

This city with its soap-carved buildings and alabaster streets lived in the constant fog of night. The street lamps and the shine from the windows were timekeepers, following the daily waxing and waning of the moon. It was a constant cycle, a constant amongst the many other constants in this never-changing city with its perpetual darkness.

In this city lived a girl, a girl with the most beautiful sea green hair, rich and soft as the foam of the sea. She loved running her hand through it, and her mother loved it too, always tying the locks into two flowing pigtails.

Yes, Miku was a happy girl.

She loved it when her mom took her out for walks, hand in hand, and sometimes she could carry the shopping bags back with her because she was a big girl.

She loved sitting on her father's lap as he read the difficult, nasty words on the picture-less newspaper under the glow of the kitchen light.

Out of all the wonderful things she had, though, she loved the bedtime stories the best.

Sometimes it would be her father by her side, hunched into a small chair half his size as he wove tales from thin air. Sometimes it would be her mother, reading and gesturing dramatically as she peered at a thick tome.

Oh, how she did love those stories, and even after the lamp on her dresser was clicked off and a goodnight kiss was placed on her brow, the adventures continued. She dreamed of faraway lands and of princes and princesses. She dreamed of unicorns and dragons and fantastical creatures she could not even name. But most of all, she dreamed of love, because it was always love that pulled the heroes through the big battle and drove him to save the ladies.

She wished that she could know such all-consuming love just once in her life.

But nothing was eternal. The happiness was not to last. The house was one day filled with crashes and shouts that never stopped since. Miku, older but still very much a little girl, could only hide under her bedcovers until all was over and quiet.

Even then, the clamor and racket followed her into her dreams. No longer were they filled with fantastical journeys culminating in a glorious and wonderful end for all involved, of heroic deeds and happy endings. No longer did she dream of stars showering down in a gentle drizzle from the night sky and catching them in her cupped hands.

They were instead invaded by witches and ogres and dragons, wreaking destruction and razing the land as far as the eye could see. Horror and heat and danger. It saddened her to see her world, the one place she could be protected from the harsh realities of her waking hours, brought to ashes, but still she preferred them to hearing alternating screams and silences.

She wished to dream, and so she always went to bed as early as possible every night with the unwavering hope that that night, things would change.

Night after night, nothing did.

And then, one day, the spirit came.

He came from the sky, descending upon invisible steps spiraling down an invisible staircase. Miku had just woken from yet another nightmare, but she wasn't so sure upon seeing the boy that she wasn't still dreaming.

Clad in a prim felt hat and a smart-fitting suit, the spirit was a far cry from all the knights in shining armor that had become all but powerless wraiths in her dreamscape long ago. He looked like a normal boy walking on air, but he had ears that were long and pointed, folded over like a sheep's.

Tucking his cane beneath the crook of his elbow, the spirit stopped before the startled girl and, taking her hand, knelt before her like a warrior of old. Eye-level, she saw that his eyes were a bottomless blue, and the emptiness scared her.

But she was fascinated, curious, and in dire need of a friend, for she had none so even a supernatural one was welcome, and he had such a firm grip on her hand that she felt it rude to pull away.

His smile was inviting and kind, and he cocked his head just so as he said "Little girl, what are you doing up so late at night?" He spoke in a voice that was neither high nor low, but with a tone that rolled like soothing waves and unobtrusive as the night breeze. "Such a pretty lady shouldn't be staying up, mind wracked with troubles, especially for one so young."

He spoke like a gentleman, and he sounded ever so courteous that she relaxed and her voice broke free of her throat. "Wh-who are you?" she questioned in a tiny mouse whisper.

The spirit stood, took a step back and bowed, hat held to chest. "I am a dream-eater, spirit of the night, at your service." The dream spirit, who looked to be caught between the years of boyhood and adulthood, lowered his head again with a gentle smile, his golden bangs curtaining his eyes.

"S-service?" She didn't know why she would need the help of a dream-eater. She had heard of them in ghost stories long ago and they were always evil tricksters. But this one looked nice. He didn't look evil at all.

"Dreams are my sustenance, and children's dreams most of all." Seeing her horrified expression, the spirit chuckled. "You have been having a nightmare, isn't that right, little one? Would you like me to cast a spell to make it all go away?"

Something clicked in Miku's mind and all her fears dispelled with a single-minded thought. "You'll make them all go away?" she exclaimed elatedly.

He chuckled again. "That's right, dear." He patted her on the head and for an instant, she remembered when her father used to do the same thing. A gesture of love. "Yes, I can't take dreams without your permission. That would be rude and boorish – but all children are always willing to give up their nightmares. Would you like to be rid of yours?"

"So they'll go away? All the nightmares will disappear and I'll dream good dreams again?"

"Yes, you can count on my service. I shall gobble them all and leave nary a single one behind," and at this, he rubbed his belly. It was such a silly gesture that Miku couldn't help but giggle. "Ah, there's the treasured smile from the little princess. So, what do you say?"

Miku frowned in thought. She still remembered the words of warning from the haunting tales, the ones of girls who never woke up and boys who wandered through life with lifeless eyes, but she really despised those awful frightful nightmares. They were nothing but, and this magical being before her would make it all go away. "They'll really be gone," she repeated, "and you won't touch the good dreams?"

"Yes to both, dear."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinky promise?" She stuck her tiny hand out, pinky extended.

The spirit didn't laugh or make fun of her like those boys at school did when she had said this to them. Instead, he responded in kind and extended his own gloved hand. "Pinky promise."

They shook on it. No one besides her mom and dad had ever taken her so seriously before. She yawned. It was long past her bedtime and her eyelids were growing heavier by the second. Seeing this, the spirit entered her room, gracefully hopping over the windowsill, and took her by her hand and led her to bed. He tucked her in. "Don't you worry," she heard him say as she sunk back into her pillow and into the cushion of deeper sleep. "Dream good dreams and have a good night, little princess."

And that was exactly what she did, for she did not meet a single monster or nasty beast with dripping fans, and she dreamed of things she thought had long since abandoned her.

When she woke, she found herself humming happily before her consciousness had even fully returned, and, skipping downstairs, she even managed to greet both her mother and father with a smile and a good morning.

So shocked were they that they even stopped arguing.

The day breezed by, for she could not wait for night to roll by again. That night, she waited for the dream-eater to return so she could thank him for the best night of her life. He'd kept his promise, from start to finish, and it was nice because no one had done that for her for a long time, but he never came. She sat by the window and thought of him and his charming features long past her bedtime, but the cuckoo clock in the kitchen downstairs chimed midnight and still he did not come.

She stayed up the night after that, and the night after that, but never again did she lay eyes on the elusive spirit.

Still, she never abandoned hope, because if there was one thing she was good at, it was dreaming for the unattainable.