Chapter 1: The girl who fell from the sky

I wait for impact…. But it doesn't come.

No collision, no pain; only the growing sensation of tingling erupting from the tips of my fingers and up the rest of my body. It is odd and unfamiliar. Like a cold wind on a normally hot day. But it is not unwelcoming.

Hesitantly, I open my eyes and see a sight I thought previously was impossible. The great green earth is far below, wide and beautiful, with mountains peppering the land with white caps, and specks of tiny villages here and there with ant sized people scattered in-between, and an ocean so vast it looks as if it goes on forever.

This has to be a dream. But that would be abnormal as it is, since I've only experienced one dream my entire life. Maybe this is some sort of coma dream? I had to have hit my head from the fall, and now I am just stuck in a dream world. However, as I pass through the clouds, they dampen my skin, giving me a touch of feeling that dreams aren't capable of.

The closer I come to the world below, the slower my fall becomes; changing from plummeting to my death to that of a hover. There are no cities in sight, no large buildings or massive shrines to indicate modern civilization. I am nowhere near the Higurashi shrine, or even Tokyo.

Yes, this has to be dream. No reality would have me falling from the sky, to a world below with no city.

But when will I wake?

My body begins to straighten on its own when I reach the tree tops, gliding through and somehow managing to miss every branch on the way down. Right when I think I will touch the ground I stretch my legs in hope the impact won't be deadly and when my feet finally touch the grass my weight returns to me in one swift moment, forcing me down onto my knees.

I look up to see endless blue sky above the canopy of green trees. I must be dreaming – I have to be – no one would have survived this. I must have hit my head on the stairs and am now in a coma.

The air is fresh, free of the smell of city pollution; it fills my lungs and has me shivering. Coma induced dreams smell so real. The sound of birds, bugs and the subtle breeze is all that fills my ears. It is peaceful.

I stand slowly, thankful my odd floating down to earth didn't leave my legs weak and wobbling.

"Where am I?" I think out loud, knowing I must be going crazy but it's still worth a shot. Only dense forest surrounds me and there is no openings or clues as to where I am or a path that has been used before…I begin a slow trek into a random direction. Leaves float down all around me as I push through the shrubs and crunch below my shoes as I walk on top of them. I'm not exactly used to nature having grown up in big cities.

I don't know the ways of forestry, how to get around it or through it. How to tell which way you should go with moss or following some stars but I can't sit around. After a few minutes of pushing through bushes and branches I crash through the greenery to find a small clearing with a single, large tree directly in the center.

The tree is oddly different from all the others, its vast canopy of leaves has to be twice the size of any tree I've ever seen and the sheer girth of the trunk is phenomenal. It would fit three…maybe four whole grown men if it was hollow inside.

It's not just the size of the tree that stops me, but the intense aura coming off of it hits me like a brick. Whatever it is comes off the tree like waves, constantly hitting me with a strong tingle than when I was falling – but it feels better than the cool wind as if it's just right…This new sensation warms my entire being and drags my body around its broad trunk like a spell; I follow without struggling until I am stopped by not only the sensation but by the sight.

There, against the tree trunk is a young man impaled to the tree by an arrow. How that lone arrow keeps him up there, six feet off the ground and holding his weight without snapping is beyond me. Where the arrow is punctured can't be too far from his heart yet there is no blood.

Matter in fact; this crime scene looks surreally peaceful.

His long silver hair sways along with the breeze and his eyes are shut like he's slumbering and not dead. I guess the vines that are wrapped around his chest could be helping support his weight, but it had to have taken years for them to grow to that length and girth, and while in meantime, that lone arrow held him alone. They look almost protective over his body or maybe cage-like. Possessive.

There is nothing stranger than the pair of dog ears on the top of his head though. This could be a dream but I have never dreamt up a guy with dog ears before and I am still challenging this of being a dream to begin with. The ears match his hair perfectly, not at all odd in the placement but like they belong.

I can't deny that this tugging feeling is the only compulsion I've ever felt in my life, an odd clench of the heart that has me feeling what I can only assume is curiosity. The emotion, though weak, but prominent through my apathy, grows stronger the more I stare up at him…and eventually I give in. I begin to climb on a portion of the tree's roots that curve like a magical stairway to the young man's body and once at eye level I get the chance to study him closely.

My eyes wander his features slowly, following the strong line of his jaw, over the gentle tip of his nose and down to his natural colored lips that are partly opened. He's handsome and…peaceful.

Is this how everyone looks when they sleep?

Long silver tendrils of hair brush across his cheeks with the breeze, sending a chill down my spine. I brush them away, accidently running my fingertips along his warm cheeks. Wait. Warm? He's alive-

"Get away from there!" Shouts a male, his voice gruff and threatening. Before I can even investigate, the sound of thunderous footsteps takes over the once peaceful silence. My body stiffens in reaction and I just barely look over my shoulder to see a shower of arrows flying my way. I react the only way I can – by pushing myself flesh to flesh with the man before me. The sound of thudding fills my ears, but nothing pierces me.

I look around, every single arrow missed but still managed to hit the tree just not me or dog boy. My heart picks up speed but no fear or panic follows, just a rush of adrenaline and survival. I hesitantly turn towards the group of men; they raise another set of arrows but they too, hesitate.

I take the advantage. Not another thought crosses my mind when I jump down from the stairway of vines and bolt in a random direction. This time my venture through the woods isn't nearly as pleasant. Branches, leaves and tall grass scratch and tear at my skin and clothes; they bite at my legs and forearms but with the rush of energy to escape, I can hardly feel their pain.

The adrenaline will end quickly, my apathy is starting to take over even that, stripping me from the feel to need of survival. Not an ounce of fear spreads through me, and my sprint to safety slows. The sounds of their footsteps are getting closer and closer. It doesn't matter how hard I push, my body isn't going the limit, and soon I start to heave for air.

The farther I go the harder it is for me to breathe, I never got to stay in a gym class long enough to have my endurance up high and I begin slowing without my control until I finally have to stop in order to breathe. My lungs begin to freeze, they burn and ache, in a pain I never felt before. Okay…I know I don't have asthma or any other serious problem, so why this amount of pain?

And there it is, I feel that tugging I felt at the tree again but now it grips my shoulders like claws trying to pull me back. It's begging, almost ripping. It can't be…can it?

I turn my head in the direction of the tree but before I know what is happening a looped rope flies at me and I don't have time to duck or avoid when it captures me in an embrace around my arms and chest. The man pulls quickly and I am forced forward towards the group like a helpless animal caught in a trap.

Their arrows are pointed at me, scowls all on their faces.

"Let me go." There is meant to be anger in my voice but it sounds too calm and collected to come off that way.

I struggle against the tightening; the rope burns and tears my skin. Two dozen men or so, round me. They work together against my weakening strength to bind my hands and feet, causing me to trip, which one of the men catch me.

Still struggling, and weak from loss of energy and the tugging of my being, the men tighten and knot the ropes. That's when I'm thrown over the shoulder of one of the many men.