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It's a shame that they have us classified as Nightmares when we all know that it isn't our fault we have such powers, as we are all born with them. I'm one of the most powerful Nightmares in this dreadful city. Loirai like me aren't looked at with much fondness. That is because I have the ability to control shadows. As in, I can use them to do just about anything I want.
Honestly , I hate how my people are treated. How Loirai like us are looked down upon by the general populace. It's not like I asked to be born like this. Although, if I had a choice in the matter, I'd say I'd prefer to be a Nightmare over that of a Daydream.
But I suppose I should explain the difference.
You see, Nightmares are those with destructive and dangerous powers. Those with ones more suited for healing or helping, are those called Daydreams.
And I am just stuck with my own inner turmoil over the fact that I'm stuck with these ungodly powers, as my father always said.
"Yvaine, over here!" calls my friend, Cyra.
I am currently walking down the street, heading gods-know-where, when my friend who can read minds calls my name. Because of course she'd know where I was. I turn around and smile, waving at my dark-haired friend. Cyra has black hair and blue-green eyes, her skin is a golden brown, and she has a slight limp to her step.
Cyra and I have been friends for years now, and I'm pretty sure the crush between us is mutual. Even though she's classified as a Daydream, she and I are closer than ever. When I turned twelve, my powers manifested in the form of a mass of black shadows that enveloped my childhood home. My father, enraged, tried to beat the truth from me, calling me evil and saying I was going to be the darkest Nightmare this world has ever known.
Cyra, who is my closest friend, sensed the fight in my home. She came in, and used her powers to make my father stop hurting me. After that, she and I were best friends. We went to school together, hung out after school, went to the same parties and the same concerts together.
She and I have always been there for each other, and I couldn't imagine a world without her by my side.
"Aww, I love you too!" she says, giggling as she reads my mind.
I playfully nudge her, and she laughs her odd, squeaking laugh. "Stop reading my mind all the time, would you?"
"Nah!"
We walk together down the street, headed for downtown San Tiersoko, our city we've lived in our whole lives. I would not trade this city for anything, really. San Tiersoko is my home, and I love it. And I know that is the same for Cyra, as well.
When we reach the Osaka Plaza, named so for Yuko Osaka, our founder, the streets are full of protesters. My blood goes cold at the sight of so many of them, and shadows pool around me in response, getting ready to fight anything that comes our way. Cyra squeezes my hand, and I'm so distracted by the fact that we are holding hands that I do not even pay the protesters much mind as we walk on by.
"What are they protesting today?" I ask her.
Cyra sighs. "They say that the classification of us is unfair, and that the stigma attached to being called a Nightmare is something that should have been thought of beforehand. But .... I don't know, I think they're missing the point."
"The point? Of what?" I ask.
"Well, the point of how everything in nature, and even human beings, has a classification. Like, dogs and cats are classified as different breeds."
"You're saying that Nightmares and Daydreams are different breeds?"
"Well, no. I'm just saying that maybe the classification isn't so bad."
"But Cyra, have you ever been attacked for being a monster?" I ask, and she chews her lip anxiously. She knows where this is going. And so do I. I honestly don't want to even bring up my father's abuse towards me when I was younger, but ....
"Okay, okay, I get it," she says. "But just.... maybe try to see it from both sides?"
"I do, Cyra. Believe me, I do. I'm just saying that classification does hurt some people."
She hums. "I know."
Suddenly, just as we are walking down the alley away from the plaza, we hear a loud crashing noise, and then, feel the heat of flames behind us. Cyra looks at me, and frowns. "Um, maybe it's a celebration?"
"So says the mind reader," I say jokingly.
We round a corner and freeze. Someone has set Osaka Plaza on fire. People scream as they flee from the flames, trampling each other, and trying their best to get away from the fire. I look at Cyra, who releases my hand and runs towards the flames.
"No, Cyra!"
"I have to help, Yvaine!"
And she vanishes into the smoke.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
