The classroom of Class D buzzed with the lazy energy of a pre-lunch afternoon.
Someone was arguing about a test, someone else scrolled through their phone, another had nearly fallen asleep.
Somehow, the chatter drifted toward a strange topic — dreams.
Ichinose smiled.
— I dreamed we finally defeated Class A. Everyone was cheering… even Sudō was crying with joy.
— Hey! — Sudō snapped. — I don't cry, even after two hours of practice!
Karuizawa grinned teasingly.
— Maybe your dream showed your soft side.
Horikita, calm but cool as always, folded her arms.
— Dreams often reflect desire. Perhaps Ichinose is just anxious about next week's results.
Ayanokōji's tone remained level.
— I don't dream. Or if I do, I don't remember them. Maybe that's for the best — fewer ties to the past.
Karuizawa sighed.
— You're so boring, Ayanokōji. I dreamed of the beach and shopping — no deep meanings, just a perfect day without homework.
Sudō stretched with a laugh.
— The beach? I'd go there right now instead of this class!
Everyone chuckled. The air felt light, almost cheerful — until silence fell.
Ichinose noticed Ichigo sitting by the window, quiet as ever, sunlight brushing his orange hair.
— What about you, Ichigo? You haven't said a word. What did you dream of?
All eyes turned to him.
Ichigo tilted his head slightly, thoughtful.
— I dreamed of a city, — he said softly.
The laughter died completely.
— I was in the center of Tokyo, during rush hour. The city was ruined, burning in places.
People lay on the ground — old, young, men, women — as if they had simply fallen mid-step.
Arms, legs, faces… scattered. The smell of fire and decay mixed in the air.
He paused. The classroom held its breath.
— I was wearing a soldier's uniform. A rifle on my back.
And I sat in the middle of it all — playing a piano.
The melody was haunting, heavy, but I kept playing, even as explosions echoed around me.
When the last note came, a shell hit right where I sat. I started to burn.
But even then, I kept playing.
He gave a faint, hollow smile.
— Burning felt almost fun… though it hurt like hell.
No one moved.
Sudō looked away, Karuizawa traced her nails along her desk, even Horikita couldn't find words.
Karuizawa spoke first, her voice trembling slightly.
— You described it so clearly… How would you even know what burning feels like? It was just a dream, right?
Sudō frowned, uneasy.
— Yeah, man. You said it like you really felt it — like actual pain.
Ichinose hesitated.
— Don't you think it was… too vivid for a dream?
Ichigo didn't answer at once. Then he smiled faintly — but his voice was empty.
— I ran an experiment.
A pause.
— I lit a candle. Brought my hand close — as close as I could.
The pain in the dream was sharper. But it proved one thing: it was real.
Silence swallowed the room again.
Some turned away, others froze. Only Ayanokōji watched Ichigo closely, eyes narrowing.
And somewhere, outside the window, the wind whispered through the leaves —
as if the world itself was holding its breath.