Dreams are a rarity for her. The forgiving world of abstractness, with its messy painting, myriad textures and incongruous colours, is a rejuvenating tranquiliser to her tired body.
But her recent dreams are far from pleasant. It comes to her in nightly successions and lends a very real yet blurry sensation of realism. They are exact, with recurring context and an interchanging environment.
She never remembers upon waking, though the feelings are incredibly stark.
In recent nights, there is a breakthrough. Her dreams have become a little clearer, a little more frequent and a little more detailed.
Tonight is no different.
In the soft sauntering warmth of the afternoon sun, her body is comfortably drifting across the quietude of a magnificent flower field.
The large rock comes into view. Its mysteriousness masquerades an art of serenity as it sits ever so serenely atop the highest hill. The fanciful aura beckons her, envelopes her and speaks to her in a soft caressing voice.
"Come, come, come and touch me," it whispers gently.
And so she does, full of curiosity and full of joy.
When she reaches for it, there is a changing awareness to her surroundings.
The distortion of this beautiful world amplifies, the musky smell of a heavy forest and the oxygen-deprived feeling intertwines to create the very real perception of an underground.
Above her, the darkness envelops. The view of the beautiful flower field disappears in a deformed swirl.
And she sees…her, another Rin, young at the innocent age of thirteen, trapped beneath a large unmovable boulder.
Then, sheis falling, falling, her screams echo in the distance and reverberates across the dungeons.
"Rin!"
She averts her gaze upwards. A familiar looking dark haired boy is watching her.
Automatically her hand reaches for him. He leans down and catch hers in a tight grip.
"Don't let go," she cries fearfully.
"Never!"
But his hand slips.
As she descends into nothingness, her blank gaze interlocks with his, never blinking and never wavering.
He is still smiling.