I'm not sure what I expected crazy daredevil Yukiya's mind to be like, but it certainly wasn't a small, peaceful fishing town, lazily perched on a steep slope.

I mean, this is an arsonist we're talking about. Yukiya's life passion is setting fire to things, and he carries matches like everywhere. His mind should have been a exciting, messed-up affair, not, well, this.

The air smells salty, the seagulls cry, and a quaint, warmly-lit trolley ambles by on predefined roadside tracks. The roads seem to be freshly wet—from rain, perhaps? And the cottages that line the street we find ourselves on are mostly wood, with yellow glows shining through the windows, despite it not being quite dark yet.

It's evening-ish. The clouds have mostly covered the sky so I can't exactly tell the color of it, but yellow and orange rays peep through occasionally. Yukiya's mind is yellow. Like how Ririka's mind is deep purple.

I wonder what color mine would be. Most likely a really boring color like grey or something, or maybe even monochrome. Though that's cool too.

We are standing on the pavement, under one of those lush, normal trees that you see everywhere, though I have no idea what type it is, not being a botanist. From our vantage point (halfway up the hill), we can see white boats dotting the dark blue sea, and faraway islands that look every bit as lush as this one we're on.

"I like it," Shun comments. "Really expected it to be some kind of fiery inferno, considering how much Yukiya likes fire."

"Yeah, this place is actually not bad, I could live here," I agree. "And good thing is that it isn't too big either, so it shouldn't be that hard to find what is making Yukiya so depressed."

The thought of facing Yukiya's deepest, darkest fear sends a shiver through my spine. I hope against hope that it isn't something I'm scared of. Unfortunately I'm scared of a lot of things, so there's a bit of a problem.

Shun is walking around, bouncing a little trying to see further. "Okay, I don't see any people. Where are the people?"

I start looking around too. There is indeed a lack of human presence—even the trolley is empty and seems to be on autopilot.

"Perhaps Yukiya is afraid of loneliness?" I suggest, though I have troubling seeing how—Yukiya is the lone wolf type who walks his own path. As far as I know he didn't have friends before coming to our school, and this is more out of his own choice than because others do not accept him. He simply likes playing with fire too much to really care about socializing with peers.

"He doesn't seem the kind, but you never know," Shun mutters absently, still looking around with a sudden anxiety. "It's awfully quiet, don't you think?"

It is indeed. I'm sensitive to sound and yet the seagull cries are the only thing I hear. And even that sounds distant, and is gradually dimming.

And then I hear it. A strange, deep rumble, coming from the ocean. It doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard. Okay, maybe a little bit like wind. A little bit like waves. A little bit like the spinning of a top.

Actually, a lot like the spinning of a top.

And it's getting louder at an alarming rate. Shun doesn't hear it at first, but after a few seconds he is joining me in staring at the sea.

"Oooookay," I say.

"This is... bad," Shun says.

"Run!" we both scream, and turn on our heels to sprint up the hill.

Behind us is the giantest water tornado I've ever imagined possible.

–

I'm not much of a runner, and this is a freaking hill we're talking about. It takes like less than three steps before I start feeling exhausted. Shun is of course much faster. Running is his forte, and with a water tornado like that pursuing us he's pretty much going at record speed. It's sort of amazing how he can still run after the extremely tiring night that has just passed.

Like, he had just shot some thousands of cockroaches in Ririka's mind, for god's sake.

Except this really isn't the right time to marvel over Shun's running abilities. The water tornado, which has kind of spread out into a huge wave, is rapidly approaching, at least judging from the sound of it. It's the most silent yet loudest thing I've ever heard, if you know what I mean.

You probably don't, since I don't know what I mean either. I'll try to explain. It's like that kind of breathhold-inducing silence the millisecond before the orchestra conductor signals the first note, when all the instruments are at their ready position, every finger, every hand, all the musicians focusing like nothing else mattered in the world—

And naturally, being a terrible runner, I trip and fall. For some reason, I don't feel like this matters too much. I'm looking at the scene objectively now, like an observer watching everything go on through the television screen, or maybe a movie theater screen, since this wave is freaking huge.

I don't process my own eventual death. I don't process that if we die in someone's mind, we die in real life. I don't process any of this; I'm nonchalant, calm as the wave comes closer, closer, and in my head I see the orchestra conductor lifting one arm, he's ready, I'm ready—

"Come on!" Shun has to break this lovely state of nirvana by doubling back and trying to help me up. Except I can barely stand. I feel as if the hill has gotten steeper somehow, like the angle is all wrong and if I take my hands off the ground I'm going to just free fall. But Shun being all cool and heroic pulls me onto his back and goes on running.

He will never outrun it with me being deadweight, I think. I can console myself with the fact that even without me being deadweight he will never outrun it anyway, but still boy do I hate being deadweight.

"No," I shout at him, barely hearing myself because of the deafening silence of the wave. "Put me down, you go—"

It's too late by then. My life does not flash past my eyes; there is no time for that. The wave slams down, its heavy silence drowning out all our cries.

In my head, the orchestra begins to play. It's actually quite a nice melody, except a bit too loud, the trombones are going crazy and there are way too many baritone sounds and the horns roar in my ears.

I shouldn't be even hearing all this. The wave should have killed me by physics logic, but it does not. I faintly recall in one class Mrs. Sato had told us that physics don't work the way they should in minds. For example, Yukiya's fear here is being drowned by the wave, not being smashed into pieces by it, therefore the wave is going to disregard physics rules and not smash us into pieces.

Cool logic, but not very comforting since even if the wave does not smash us into pieces, it still can and will drown us, so that's just another way to die.

So Yukiya is afraid of water. It's true, I realize when I think about it, that I've never seen him swim. It's not like we have swimming classes, of course, but never in a mock mission or in training.

And he's the fire guy, so it makes a hundred percent sense for him to be afraid of water. Good thing I'm not the fire guy, and I'm also not afraid of water. At least not that afraid—I mean, I can swim, but my mediocre skills won't be helping me brave the rapids or anything any time soon.

I kick and scramble my way upwards, towards the surface, towards light, towards air. With everything being a huge foamy mess of wet confusion and me barely able to open my eyes (the salt water stings), it's almost difficult for me to tell which way is up, but I know I'm on the right track because the baritones in my head are getting dimmer, while the higher instruments are getting louder. I could hear a piccolo trailing somewhere almost.

I follow it, arms and legs moving instinctively, and just when my lungs can barely hold out any longer, finally my head breaks the surface.

I gasp like I never gasped before, greedily refilling my starved lungs with precious air. My wet bangs are matted all over my face and I annoyedly swat them away, blinking water out of my eyes and trying to get my bearings. It's hard, because there are smaller waves that keep threatening to throw me under again, but I do my best to tread water and keep focus. It is getting dark, everything is grey, the water is grey, the sky is grey, and I can see land not too far away, but it is grey too.

So this is Yukiya's worst nightmare. But I am not afraid of water, and the wave does not follow physics. It has not killed me. The fact that we're still in this world and not rudely ejected means that it has also not killed Yukiya, wherever he is. I try to remember Mrs. Sato's words. Get past their fears. Save them. Perhaps, like Shun had to get past the roaches to get to Ririka, we have to get past the wave to get to Yukiya. That's what Mr. Yamada's crew wants, right? Not to kill the subjects, just brainwash them. The wave is not supposed to kill Yukiya, it serves to simply prevent him from escaping, keeping him behind it until he is brainwashed thoroughly. The only way to stop the brainwashing is to go behind the wave, and to bring him back to the peaceful fishing village, which is his right state of mind.

I see this now, as clear as day. The logic suddenly all makes sense. Instead of having no exact idea what we're doing, I actually know now. Yukiya will not die from the wave because he is behind it. He only watches it, and the fear of it will eat him up, weakening him into an easily brainwashable state.

But it's different for us mindhackers. We can still die. I mean, if someone's fear is being shot through the head or something, it can still kill us when we try to get past the bullets to them.

I survey the area around me, sudden horror in my heart.

Where is Shun?