Dark. So dark.

He couldn't hear the voices calling out to him.

He couldn't feel the hands reaching towards him.

He couldn't breathe.

Oh, god, he couldn't breathe.

His chest heaved with an inexplicable heaviness. His knees crumpled under the weight. The very air suffocated him.

He couldn't move. He couldn't see.

Panic clawed up his stomach and choked his throat. Everything felt so heavy. The rain blurred his vision.

No, no that wasn't right, he distantly realized. Not rain. Tears. Tears?

Fingers shakily crept up his cheeks and swiped at the dampness there. He blinked incredulously at the droplets that appeared on them.

His tears. He was crying.

He lifted his hand to wipe his eyes again, and then red streaked in the corner of his eye. He turned. His throat began to close up again at the sight. Blood bloomed, opening its petals of crimson, staining the white snow.

Oh god, so it wasn't a dream. They…They really did…Oh, god. No, no, no, no, no. He can't accept it. No.

Despair coiled in his stomach and slithered into his chest until it wrapped around his heart and squeezed viciously. White, hot blinding pain jolted throughout his whole body. They're gone. Gone. Gone. Dead….His eyes burned.

He opened his mouth to ask (because this wasn't happening, right? Nothing but a dream. A nightmare. The goddamn yokai messing with him again.) but all he could hear was his own scream.