章 1: File 0 - Prologue
In the hushed realms of White Space, where echoes of reality and dreams intertwine, a young Sunny stood, tears staining his cheeks. Beside him, Basil, a steadfast presence, reassured him with a gentle embrace. "It's okay, Sunny. We'll get through this together."
As the comforting words lingered in the air, the transition to a melancholic sigh marked a shift. Omori, the enigmatic figure among the fragments of items scattered across the white expanse, idly sighed. His gaze, filled with quiet contemplation, seemed to hint at the complexities and mysteries that awaited in this idyllic realm
As Omori turned, a faint shimmer in the white space caught his attention. Amidst the fragments, Mewo, the whimsical companion, manifested with an inquisitive tilt of its head. It observed Omori with curious, starry eyes, as if attuned to the subtle shifts in the fabric of this dream-like realm.
The air hung with a blend of nostalgia and uncertainty, setting the stage for the journey that lay ahead. The fragments, remnants of both reality and imagination, seemed to hold whispers of the altered truth within this intricate tale.
Omori's hand, once stoic, extended to gently pet Mewo. As the soft touch met the ethereal creature's form, a subtle transformation occurred. The corners of Omori's expression shifted, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. In the quiet of the white space, he whispered, "Mewo... You always like me around, won't you?"
The exchange between Omori and Mewo echoed with a hint of longing, a yearning for connection in a world suspended between dreams and reality. The soft smile lingered, leaving a delicate resonance in the fragments of this evolving narrative.
Mewo, the fluffy black cat, turned with a content purr, its gaze meeting Omori's. "Mew?" it queried, a gentle inquiry lingering in the air. (Want to spend time with your friends?)
The question carried with it a sense of companionship as if the very essence of the white space beckoned for connections to be forged and memories to be woven.
With a straight face, Omori rose, nodding in acknowledgment. His gaze turned towards a seemingly inconspicuous white door in the expansive white space. As he waved at Mewo, the ethereal cat gracefully descended to rest, disappearing into a slumber.
Approaching the door, Omori's hand reached for the handle, revealing a fleeting glimpse of the dream world beyond. There, Kel, Aubrey, and Hero lingered, each with their echoes in this altered reality.
Entering the dreamworld, Omori was met with a burst of amazing pastel colors that painted the landscape. Kel, Aubrey, and Hero stood there, their forms vivid against the dreamlike hues.
With a casual stride, Omori approached his friends, each interaction unfolding in a long narrative dance. Conversations resonated with laughter and shared memories, painting the dream world with vibrant strokes of camaraderie. As they moved through the surreal landscape, the pastel colors seemed to reflect the emotional tapestry woven between these characters.
During the vibrant interactions, Omori paused, a brief stillness enveloping him. With a soft-spoken tone, he addressed his friends, "Guys... I will be... right back, okay? Don't go on adventures without me..."
The words hung in the air, carrying a sense of both reassurance and an unspoken weight. As he ventured into the unknown, the dreamworld friends exchanged glances, their expressions shifting with a mix of understanding and curiosity. The narrative poised on the edge of anticipation, hinting at the mysteries awaiting Omori in the chapters to come.
Kel, with his usual infectious energy, grinned and playfully nudged Omori. "Sure thing, buddy! We'll save all the good stuff for when you're back."
Aubrey, her vibrant demeanor softened, offered a nod. "Take your time, Omori. We'll be right here."
Hero, ever the reassuring presence, gave a warm smile. "Don't worry, Omori. We'll be right where you left us, ready for more adventures when you return."
With these assurances, Omori left his dreamworld friends temporarily, the landscape brimming with anticipation for the narrative twists and turns that awaited him in the white space.
Back in the white space, Omori gently closed the door behind him. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, and a gulp marked a moment of hesitation. In a swift, deliberate motion, he pulled out his knife. Closing his eyes, he stabbed himself in the gut, triggering the transition.
As the scene shifted, Omori awakened in the dimly lit bedroom of the waking world. The dream persona faded, replaced by the visage of Sunny. Groggily waking up, details of Sunny's appearance became apparent — slightly baggy eyes, a perpetual sleepy expression, and the fresh, yet burdened countenance. The room, bathed in the soft glow of night, held an atmosphere that bridged the worlds between dreams and reality. How would Sunny navigate the waking world, carrying the echoes of his dreamworld adventures?
Sunny stirred, weariness evident as he woke up in the dimly lit bedroom. A cough escaped him, and with a facepalm, he groaned, "Ughh... I feel hungry..." Touching his belly, he decided to wander about, the room cloaked in darkness.
In the quiet, he shockingly found himself doodling new drawings. His gaze shifted to a sleeping silhouette – a comatose Mari, her appearance well-maintained in a hospital bed at home. "Hey, Mari... Hope you, umm, keep resting well every day," he muttered.
Sunny's attention turned to a sticky note his parents left, a gentle reminder of tasks to be done. As he glanced back at Mari, tears welled up. Sniffling, he whispered, "Still... It would be nice if you could... wake up soon..." The room held a bittersweet atmosphere, with Sunny navigating the challenges of the waking world and carrying the weight of his emotions.
Examining the to-do list left by his parents, Sunny's eyes traced over the tasks in the dimly lit bedroom. The soft glow cast shadows on the handwritten notes. The list outlined various household chores and responsibilities, mundane yet significant in the context of his daily routine.
His parents' warmth and care echoed through these instructions, a reminder of their support in the midst of the challenges Sunny faced. As he considered the tasks, a mix of determination and weariness played on his features. With a sigh, he whispered, "I'll get it done, just like always," a promise to himself and perhaps a silent reassurance to the comatose Mari in the room.
The bedroom held the quiet weight of responsibilities and unspoken hopes as Sunny prepared to embark on the day, weaving between the threads of the dream and waking worlds.
Sunny sighed, the room's stillness broken by the sudden ring of his phone. Almost jumping at the unexpected interruption, he hesitated before answering. Eerily uneasy, his mind briefly wandered to the ominous figures he'd encountered in the dream world.
As he picked up the phone, squinting at the screen, he heard a soft voice on the other end. "Huh? Basil? Nghh… Why are you calling this late?" His eyes narrowed in the dim light, a mix of curiosity and weariness etched on his face as he navigated the unexpected call in the quiet of the night.
Basil's voice, calm and measured, resonated through the phone. "Hey, Sunny. I'm sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to check-in. How are you holding up?"
Sunny let out a sigh, the tension in his frame easing a bit. "It's... it's been a night, Basil. What's up?" The dim light accentuated the weariness in his eyes as he listened, curious about the reason behind Basil's late-night call.
As Sunny waited for Basil's reply, a subtle thought crossed his mind. "Sometimes I had no idea the last time we talked or such," he mused, reflecting on the complexities of their interactions. The dimly lit room provided a quiet backdrop to this moment of introspection, punctuated by the soft glow of his phone screen.
Basil's response, when it came, held a hint of concern. "I just wanted to see how you're doing, Sunny. If you ever need to talk, I'm here."
The conversation unfolded against the backdrop of the night, the phone call becoming a connection between friends navigating the challenges of an altered reality.
A nervous chuckle escaped Sunny as he yawned, his voice carrying a touch of weariness. "I'm fine, Basil. Just going to eat a late-night meal and tackle some chores left by me and Mari's parents..." He hesitated briefly, the mention of Mari adding a subtle layer of complexity to the conversation.
Basil's understanding tone resonated through the phone. "Take your time, Sunny. Remember, I'm here for you." The words held a quiet reassurance as Sunny navigated the intricacies of his waking world, balancing the mundane tasks with the weight of unspoken emotions.
Sunny nodded as he spoke, "Wait, what time and date is this? Sorry, it's still a bit hazy for me since I just woke up..."
Basil, on the other end of the line, provided the needed information. "It's quite late, Sunny. The date is Late May 2003, and you're into the early hours of the morning now."
Sunny's acknowledgment was accompanied by a faint murmur of gratitude, the awareness of time grounding him in the present moment as he prepared to navigate the tasks ahead.
Sunny gasped, a sudden realization hitting him. "Really? Midnight? Ohh shoot—" He rushed to hold the phone, cautiously wandering the house with a sense of urgency and insecurity.
Basil's voice echoed through the phone, a mixture of concern and amusement. "Take it easy, Sunny. You can tackle the chores tomorrow. Get some rest."
Sunny's footsteps slowed as he processed Basil's words, the night enveloping him in a quiet reassurance. The phone call became a thread connecting him to the familiar voice and the tasks of the waking world, bridging the realms between dreams and reality.
Sunny chuckled, a moment of warmth breaking through the night's tension. "Before we end the call, Basil, how are YOU doing?"
Basil's response carried a thoughtful note. "I'm doing okay, Sunny. Thanks for asking. Just wanted to make sure you're alright. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything, alright?"
Their exchange held a sense of camaraderie, the late-night call becoming a bridge connecting two friends navigating the complexities of their lives.
Sunny sighed, a weariness audible in his voice. "Yes, yes. You rest or relax too, Basil. Thanks—"
Basil's response held a gentle tone. "You're welcome, Sunny. Take care, and have a good night. I'll talk to you soon."
As the call ended, Sunny was left with the quiet of the night, a mix of emotions settling around him. The dimly lit room became a sanctuary, and he continued to navigate the tasks of the waking world with a newfound sense of connection and support.
Sunny sighed, setting the phone aside. In the dim light, he noticed an older, tired black cat emerging from the shadows. Kneeling down, he addressed the feline companion, "Mewo... sorry, did I wake you?"
The cat, with a slow blink, seemed to acknowledge Sunny's presence. Its weary yet familiar gaze held a silent understanding, the shared moments between them becoming a subtle anchor in the quiet night.
Sunny gently petted Mewo, the quiet exchange between them unspoken yet filled with a sense of companionship. The room embraced the tranquility of the night as they shared the space, the world outside fading into the background.
The older cat, though tired, stayed close, finding solace in Sunny's presence. As the night unfolded, the dimly lit room became a sanctuary, weaving together threads of friendship, memories, and the quiet reassurance that even in the stillness, connections endured.
Sunny left the cat to rest, navigating the house with a mix of determination and the lingering eeriness of the night. As he approached the stairs, the act of breathing became a practiced ritual, each inhale and exhale grounding him against the rising sense of panic.
Despite the dizziness, he managed to descend the stairs, the journey fraught with a silent struggle against the unknown. As he reached the kitchen, a sense of accomplishment settled in. "Wonder what meal is left for me," he mused, the dimly lit kitchen holding the promise of a late-night sustenance.
Sunny, still navigating the residual unease, opened the refrigerator. The soft glow spilled over shelves filled with neatly arranged ingredients. His eyes scanned the options, contemplating the creation of a simple yet comforting meal.
Amidst the quiet of the night, he decided on something familiar – a warm bowl of soup. The rhythmic sounds of chopping and simmering filled the kitchen as he prepared the ingredients, a gentle distraction from the uncertainties lingering in the dim-lit spaces.
As the aroma of the cooking soup wafted through the kitchen, Sunny found solace in the routine of preparing a late-night meal. The act became a small sanctuary, grounding him in the tangible tasks of the waking world.
Tasting the late-night meal he prepared, Sunny muttered to himself, "Woah... I really am slowly learning to cook."
The satisfaction in his voice echoed through the kitchen, a testament to the progress he was making. In the midst of this small triumph, a thought crossed his mind. "I wonder what would Hero think if I ever get to see him in the future," he pondered, the prospect of sharing his newfound culinary skills with his dreamworld friend adding a touch of curiosity to the night.
As Sunny continued to eat, a subtle realization crept in—the pace of his consumption felt hurried, and a chokehold of anxiety settled in. The weight of the night's events lingered, and the act of nourishing himself became entwined with the unease that permeated the dimly lit kitchen.
Setting down the utensils, he took a deep breath, attempting to ease the tension. The silent acknowledgment of the need to slow down and savor the moment echoed through the room as he navigated the delicate balance between the tangible and intangible threads of the night.
Taking a deliberate breath, Sunny made a conscious effort to slow down. He resumed eating, the slurping sounds becoming a measured rhythm. The warmth of the soup and the deliberate pace began to dissipate the lingering unease, creating a cocoon of solace in the kitchen.
Each bite, each slurp, became a deliberate act of savoring. The dimly lit space embraced this quiet ritual, offering a sanctuary where the flavors mingled with the echoes of the night. In this intentional slowing down, Sunny found a momentary reprieve, a respite from the hurried currents of the day.
Sunny sighed, a post-meal exhale that carried both contentment and the weight of the night. Gulping down the last remnants of the soup, he cast aside the dishes, their clinking sounds fading into the quiet kitchen.
Turning away, he began the ascent back upstairs, each step a journey through the dim-lit spaces of his home. The night enveloped him, and with each footfall, he navigated the familiar path, the echoes of the evening lingering in the corners of his consciousness.
Entering the bathroom, Sunny felt a subtle nervousness as he approached the sink to brush his teeth. In the dim light, he caught a glimpse of a form, a shadowy presence that seemed to linger eerily. His imagination played tricks on him, the silhouette leering in the corners of his perception.
Coughing to shake off the unease, he sighed, determined to focus on the tasks at hand. Proceeding to do chores, he found comfort in the rhythm of familiar actions. As he worked, a soft hum escaped his lips, a lullaby—Mari's lullaby—that echoed in his head. The melody provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet of the night, a reminder of the connection between the worlds of dreams and reality.
Completing the chores, Sunny returned to his bedroom, a quiet sanctuary amidst the night's lingering uncertainties. He looked away, the room holding a hushed atmosphere as he mumbled, "Please, Mari... wake up soon..."
The words hung in the air, a whispered plea that resonated with the weight of his emotions. In the dim-lit space, Sunny navigated the boundaries between dreams and reality, the silent yearning for a familiar presence shaping the moments that unfolded in the quietude of the night.
Gazing at the comatose Mari nearby, Sunny took a moment before lying back down on his bed. Huddling beneath the blanket, he prepared to sleep, the room enveloped in a tranquil stillness.
As he closed his eyes, the echoes of the night's events lingered, and the quiet presence of his dreamworld and waking world intermingled. The rhythmic breaths beneath the blanket became a lullaby, a gentle melody weaving through the shadows, guiding Sunny into the realms of dreams and the promise of a new day.
He woke up again in white space , as Omori, in his iconic attire. Turning around, he found himself facing a laptop that seemed to materialize within this ethereal realm. With a contemplative exhale, he stared at the laptop, pondering what tasks or mysteries awaited him in this peculiar space.
Perhaps mild differences like cherry white colored earrings, more tired eyes. his socks reaching his knee with grey bits on his toes and back feet. a bit of a violin symmetrical-curve on his familiar black shirt. Lastly, Black and white striped artist-like finger gloves with a dash of some black colored nails.
クリエイターの想い 
Mystic_Magnificous
Mystic_Magnificous I guess Library amount for me I can tell if someone still wants to keep reading this Omori AU. Still I ENJOY this very much. as long there's a lot of readers its great!!!!
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