In her dreams, Juri sees Shiori. Not as Juri knows her, she’s certain of that. This Shiori, pale and malnourished, snarls and paces eerily across a dimly lit dungeon. She doesn’t appear to have eaten in several days, and her fingernails are caked with clay from scratching at the walls. There’s blood in Shiori’s mouth, and hatred in her eyes.
Despite Shiori’s fearsome appearance, Juri strides forward confidently towards her, fixing a determined and regal posture as she does so. At least she hopes it appears that way, Juri thinks to herself, as she pleads with her buckling knees.
“Shiori? Is that you?” Juri asks knowingly. “I’m here for you.”
Tears begin to well up in Juri’s eyes as she stops in front of Shiori. Kneeling, she reaches out for Shiori, grips her tightly, and places Shiori’s head on her shoulder.
As Shiori’s teeth break skin, it’s all Juri can do not to scream. She begins to feel lightheaded, but rests her head against Shiori, her sun-kissed curls covering Shiori’s bloody maw as if to conceal her from the world’s judgment.
The dream always ends the same way: Juri holds her close until she no longer has blood to spare.