As the morning sun streamed through the window, casting golden light across the room, Haruto and Mina began to gather themselves. Haruto adjusted his rumpled clothes and started gathering his things for school while Mina rummaged through her closet, grabbing her school uniform.

  Maki, still perched among the pile of blankets, watched them with an amused expression, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He stretched lazily, clearly enjoying the chaos he had witnessed. As Mina moved about, she shot him a curious look, finally taking a moment to address the oddity of their situation.

  “Okay, Maki,” she said, pulling her hair into a quick ponytail. “You need to explain something to me. Why can you talk? And why do you know so much about the Dreamscape?” Her tone was inquisitive, yet laced with suspicion.

  Maki gave a dramatic sigh, as if he had been waiting for this question the whole time. “Well, since you asked so nicely… The truth is, I was… an experiment.” He paused for effect, as if expecting some grand reaction.

  Haruto raised an eyebrow while Mina tilted her head, confused. “An experiment?” she asked slowly. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said!” Maki replied, puffing out his tiny chest with a theatrical flourish. “I was part of a project involving the Dreamscape. Some very smart people were curious about how our two worlds are connected, and I was… let’s just say, ‘modified’ to understand things no normal monkey could. Hence the gift of speech and my unparalleled knowledge of the Dreamscape.”

  Mina frowned, her curiosity morphing into skepticism. “So you were… altered somehow? And that’s why you can talk?”

  “More or less,” Maki replied with a lazy shrug. “And before you ask, only those who have been in the Dreamscape can actually hear me. Consider it a special privilege. If your aunt walked in right now, she’d just hear some adorable monkey noises.”

  Mina looked mildly horrified, the concept of experiments on animals mixing uncomfortably with her newfound trust in Maki. “That’s… disturbing,” she said, her brow furrowed. “But I guess it makes sense. So, only people like us can understand you?”

  Maki grinned, a cheeky look crossing his face. “Bingo. You and your friends are the lucky ones who get to hear my witty and delightful commentary. Aren’t you blessed?”

  “Uh-huh, sure,” Mina replied dryly, turning back to her closet to pull out her school uniform. “Well, if you’re going to be hanging around, you’d better not get in the way.”

  She grabbed her uniform and turned her back to change, quickly pulling off her wrinkled clothes from the night before. Maki’s eyes widened, his gaze locking onto her, his mouth parting in an almost comical expression. His tiny paws pressed together, and he practically leaned forward, his tiny frame almost vibrating with excitement.

  Mina pulled on her skirt, oblivious to Maki’s fascination until she happened to glance over her shoulder. She froze, her eyes going wide as she caught sight of Maki staring, a thin line of drool at the corner of his mouth.

  “Maki!” she shrieked, her face flushing bright red as she grabbed the nearest object—a shoe—and hurled it at him with all her might. “What are you doing, you little pervert?!”

  The shoe sailed across the room and smacked Maki square in the forehead with a loud thunk. He dropped to the floor in an exaggerated flop, stars spinning around his head as he lay sprawled on the ground, still salivating with a dazed grin on his face.

  “Oww… worth it,” he mumbled, his eyes unfocused as the imprint of the shoe slowly faded from his tiny skull.

  Haruto looked up, trying and failing to suppress a laugh at the scene. He coughed, turning away to hide his grin as Mina’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, her hands clenched into fists.

  “You’re the worst,” she muttered, yanking on her school shirt and buttoning it with quick, angry movements. “If you ever—ever—do that again, I’ll throw you out the window. Got it?”

  Maki, still flat on the floor, gave a lazy thumbs-up, clearly unbothered by the threat. “Understood, milady. I live to serve.”

  “Ugh,” Mina groaned, rolling her eyes as she finished getting dressed. “I don’t know why we’re even trusting you, you weird little monkey.”

  Maki only grinned wider, seemingly pleased with himself despite the throbbing bump forming on his forehead. Haruto finally cleared his throat, regaining his composure enough to step between them.

  “Alright, enough,” he said, fighting back another smile. “We’re already late, and we need to focus. Let’s get going.”

  Mina shot Maki one final glare before nodding, gathering her things and giving her reflection in the mirror a quick once-over. With one last exasperated sigh, she followed Haruto out the door, leaving Maki to scamper after them, grinning like he had just won some unseen battle.

  As they made their way down the hallway, Maki settled comfortably back onto Haruto’s shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischievous delight. He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially into Haruto’s ear. “She’s feisty. I like her.”

  Haruto sighed, shaking his head. “Just behave, okay? We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Maki replied with a dismissive wave of his paw. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

  Mina shot them both a suspicious glance, clearly not convinced. But for now, they had a bigger challenge to face—returning to the normal world after what they had experienced in the Dreamscape and keeping their secrets safe, all while Maki, their bizarre and questionable guide, continued to test the limits of their patience and trust.

  But despite the chaos, there was a new bond between them, forged in the heart of the Dreamscape—a bond that would only grow stronger as the shadows of the other world continued to encroach upon their reality.

  As Haruto and Mina made their way to school, Maki had wedged himself comfortably into Haruto’s bag, his small frame nestled among textbooks and notebooks. Occasionally, the bag would wiggle, and Haruto would give it a gentle nudge to quiet the excitable monkey inside. Mina walked beside him, still a little red-faced from their earlier encounter, but her mood had lightened considerably. The events of the Dreamscape still weighed heavily on both of them, but there was a sense of camaraderie now—a bond that made the walk to school feel a little less daunting.

  When they arrived at the school gates, they spotted Nao and Shinji waiting by the entrance. Nao waved them over, a bright smile on her face, while Shinji leaned casually against the wall, hands in his pockets.

  “Hey!” Nao called out, her eyes lighting up as she saw them approach. “I was wondering when you’d get here. You two alright?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” Mina replied, managing a genuine smile. “A bit of a rough morning, but we made it.”

  “Glad to see you’re in one piece,” Shinji added with a teasing grin. “After everything that happened, I half expected you two to skip.”

  Just as Haruto opened his mouth to reply, there was a sudden yelp from his bag. He felt a series of rapid thumps as Maki seemed to slip and slide over something inside.

  “What the—?!” Maki’s muffled voice complained from inside the bag, his words slurred with indignation. “Who keeps a sharp pencil right next to their food!”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Shinji’s eyes widened, and he pointed incredulously at Haruto’s bag. “Don’t tell me you actually brought that stupid monkey to school!”

  From inside the bag, Maki’s voice piped up, clearly offended. “Stupid monkey?! Says the airhead who tried to fight a shadow with a broomstick! Yeah, they told ne about that! Get some real moves, you dunce!”

  Shinji’s face flushed, and he leaned closer to the bag, his eyes narrowing. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you come out and say that to my face, you furball?”

  Maki’s tiny face poked out from the slightly unzipped opening, a smug grin on his lips. “I would, but I’m a little too busy not being the guy who got dragged around by his collar like a lost puppy.”

  “Oh, that’s it!” Shinji said, his temper flaring as he stepped closer, half-reaching for the bag. “Come here, you little—!”

  Nao quickly stepped between them, raising her hands. “Alright, enough! You two bickering like children is not helping. We’ve got bigger things to worry about.” Her voice was calm but firm, and the look she shot both Shinji and Maki silenced them—for the moment, at least.

  “Fine,” Shinji grumbled, crossing his arms and shooting the bag one last glare. “But if that monkey keeps mouthing off, he’s going in a locker.”

  Maki retreated back into the depths of Haruto’s bag, grumbling. “He wishes…”

  Haruto chuckled, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. “Let’s just focus, alright? We need to get on the same page if we’re going to handle what’s happening in the Dreamscape. We can’t afford to fall apart now.”

  “Agreed,” Nao said with a nod, glancing between the three of them. “But before we do anything else, I think we need to figure out who we are as a team. We need a name.”

  “A name?” Mina asked, tilting her head. “You mean… like a group name?”

  “Exactly!” Shinji said, his mood brightening instantly as if the previous bickering had never happened. “Something cool. Something that makes us sound like total badasses.”

  Nao crossed her arms, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… what about ‘The Shadow Slayers’?”

  Shinji snorted. “Too cheesy. Sounds like some superhero comic book.”

  “Well, what do you have, then?” Nao shot back, raising an eyebrow.

  Shinji thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “How about ‘The Night Stalkers’? You know, because we go into the Dreamscape at night?”

  Haruto and Mina exchanged skeptical glances, and Nao immediately shook her head. “Too creepy. We’re not hunting people, Shinji.”

  “Fine, fine,” Shinji muttered, clearly disappointed. “What do you have, Mina?”

  Mina hesitated, her brow furrowing as she tried to think of something. “Um… ‘The Dream Defenders’?”

  Haruto smiled, but he could see that even Mina didn’t seem convinced by her own suggestion. “Maybe,” he said gently, “but it feels a little... I don’t know, too formal?”

  Mina nodded, sighing. “Yeah, I guess it doesn’t sound right.”

  They stood there for a moment, the four of them frowning in thought. Maki’s tiny voice suddenly piped up from inside the bag. “How about ‘The Fearsome Four’?”

  “No,” everyone said in unison.

  “Hey, just trying to help,” Maki said with a mock-hurt tone.

  The conversation stalled for a moment, until all three of them turned to look at Haruto expectantly. He blinked, surprised to suddenly be the center of attention.

  “What about you, Haruto?” Nao asked. “You’re the one who brought us together in the first place. Got any ideas?”

  Haruto hesitated, feeling the weight of their gazes. He thought about what they were doing—exploring the Dreamscape, facing the darkest parts of themselves, and pulling back the curtain on a world that existed alongside their own. He took a deep breath, then looked up with a small, confident smile.

  “How about… ‘The Dreamweavers’?”

  The word hung in the air for a moment, resonating between them. Nao’s eyes lit up, and she nodded slowly. “I like that,” she said softly. “It’s... it fits.”

  Shinji mulled it over, then grinned, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, yeah! That’s way cooler than anything we came up with. It’s got a mysterious vibe, you know? Like we’re not just fighting shadows—we’re, like, untangling dreams and saving people. Yeah, I dig it.”

  Mina’s smile was small but genuine. “The Dreamweavers… I like it too. It’s hopeful. Like we’re trying to make things better.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Nao said, smiling at Haruto with approval. “From now on, we’re ‘The Dreamweavers’.”

  Shinji clapped Haruto on the shoulder, a broad grin splitting his face. “Nice job, boss! Looks like you’re the leader now.”

  Haruto blinked, taken aback. “Wait, what? I never said I wanted to be—”

  “Oh, too late,” Maki interrupted from inside the bag. “The airhead already crowned you, and I’m backing him up. You’ve got the leadership vibes, kid.”

  Haruto felt his cheeks warm slightly, but he couldn’t deny the surge of pride that came with their words. He looked at the three of them—Mina’s quiet smile, Nao’s confident nod, and even Shinji’s cocky grin—and knew that they were with him, no matter how uncertain the road ahead might be.

  “Alright,” he said, his voice steady. “The Dreamweavers it is. But if we’re going to do this, we do it together. No one gets left behind.”

  “Together,” Nao echoed, her eyes shining.

  “Let’s kick some shadow butt!” Shinji whooped, his fists clenched with excitement.

  Maki gave a tiny salute from inside the bag. “I’m in too—especially if it means more of your delightful chaos.”

  They all laughed, the tension and nerves from earlier lifting as they solidified their bond as a team. The Dreamweavers were born, and with it, a new determination settled over them. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united by the promise to bring light to the darkest corners of the Dreamscape.

  The school bell rang, pulling them from their moment, but the spark of determination remained in their eyes. It was only the beginning, but they were ready for whatever came next.

  Morning classes felt long, dragging on with the weight of the previous night’s events hanging over Haruto’s head. Maki had gone silent after they settled into their first-period classroom, burrowing deeper into Haruto’s bag like a small, sleepy ball of fur. Haruto was grateful for the monkey’s silence, not wanting to draw any attention. He kept his head down, listening half-heartedly to his teacher’s lecture, his thoughts continually drifting back to the Dreamscape and Mina’s palace.

  “Haruto,” came a voice from the front of the room, breaking him out of his reverie. He blinked, realizing his teacher, Ms. Takamaru, was looking right at him.

  “Yes?” he asked, sitting up straighter and forcing his focus back on the classroom.

  “I asked you to solve this equation,” she said, tapping the chalkboard where a complicated math problem was scrawled.

  Haruto stared at the equation for a moment, his mind scrambling to catch up. But he managed to piece the numbers together, the answer coming to him in a flash of clarity. “It’s 152,” he answered calmly.

  Ms. Takamaru gave a small nod of approval, though there was a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Correct. Please pay more attention from now on, Haruto.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, feeling a brief surge of relief as he slumped back in his chair. His bag gave a small, muffled rustle—Maki’s quiet acknowledgment of the close call—and Haruto couldn’t help but smile.

  After school, the Dreamweavers gathered behind the gym, a secluded spot far from prying eyes and ears. Haruto set his bag down, feeling Maki stir inside as Nao, Mina, and Shinji joined him, their faces a mixture of curiosity and lingering anxiety.

  Mina was the first to break the silence, her gaze fixed on Maki as he climbed out of the bag and stretched lazily. “Maki,” she said, “I’ve been thinking. You said the palace was a manifestation of someone’s inner struggles, right? So, what exactly causes a palace to form in the first place?”

  Maki paused, scratching his furry chin with one small paw. “Well, from what I know, a palace forms when someone has a deep part of themselves they refuse to acknowledge—something they absolutely deny about themselves. It has to be strong enough to manifest in the Dreamscape, though.” He shrugged, looking thoughtful. “But honestly? I don’t know all the details. It’s not something that happens to everyone who has doubts or insecurities. There’s something… special about the people who get pulled in, but I couldn’t tell you what that is. All I know is it’s about refusing to accept a part of yourself.”

  “Yeah, but why only in this town?” Mina asked, her expression troubled. “Why now? Why us?”

  “That’s the weird part,” Maki admitted, his tiny face scrunched in confusion. “I’ve never seen so many palaces form in one area before. Usually, they’re rare—one in a city, if that. But here? There’s a pattern, and it’s like something is drawing them out.”

  Shinji crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “You don’t think it’s some kind of killer, do you? I mean, with all the people falling into comas, it’s starting to sound like there’s someone behind it.”

  Maki shook his head. “If there’s a ‘killer,’ it’s not in the traditional sense. A palace doesn’t just appear because someone else wants it to. It’s about the person—their own struggle, their own fear. The Dreamscape is a reflection of them, not some external force.”

  Nao leaned against the wall, her expression contemplative. “So, if we don’t know what’s causing this, we have to assume it’s a random occurrence for now. None of the victims seem to have anything in common.”

  Haruto’s gaze darkened. “But that doesn’t make sense, does it? All these comas happening at once, all in this town. It can’t be random.”

  Maki nodded, a rare seriousness settling over his small frame. “Agreed. Something’s definitely off, and if there’s a pattern, we need to figure out what it is before more people get hurt.”

  They all fell silent, the implications settling heavily on their shoulders. The Dreamscape was more dangerous than they’d realized, and their mission was becoming more than just a search for answers—it was a matter of life and death.

  Somewhere in town, far from the school and the quiet conversations of the Dreamweavers, a different scene played out in the shadows.

  A dimly lit room, barely illuminated by the faint glow of a single candle, was cluttered with papers and sketches pinned haphazardly to the walls. The only sound was the soft scratch of a pen against paper as a figure hunched over a desk, the dim light casting shadows across his form.

  The figure was a boy, around the same age as Haruto and his friends, his face obscured by a plain, featureless mask that hid his identity. His hands moved with practiced precision, carefully writing in a notebook, the pen leaving dark, purposeful lines across the page.

  The boy’s writing was slow and deliberate, each word etched with an almost obsessive intensity. As he wrote, he muttered to himself, his voice low and strained. “Plans… foiled again. The Dreamweavers… interference. But I will not be stopped.”

  He paused, glancing at a map pinned to the wall in front of him, each point marked with red ink—locations, names, dates. A pattern only he seemed to understand. He picked up a small dart and hurled it at the map, the point sticking deep into the paper with a satisfying thunk.

  “More will come,” he whispered, his tone almost reverent. “It’s not over yet. Not until they see… not until they understand.” He flipped the page in his notebook, his hand steady as he began to draw, a strange, intricate symbol taking form beneath his careful strokes.

  The candle flickered, casting long shadows across the room, and the boy’s masked face tilted slightly, as if listening to a distant sound only he could hear.

  “It’s all part of the plan,” he murmured, his tone shifting to one of calm certainty. “They don’t realize… they never will. Not until it’s too late.”

  The sound of his pen filled the room, a steady, relentless rhythm in the darkness.

  The Dreamscape was not just a manifestation of fear and doubt—it was a web, carefully spun with threads only the boy seemed to see. And as he continued to write, the sense of purpose in his movements was clear.

  He was not simply observing the unfolding chaos.

  He was orchestrating it.