213. Dreams like realities
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Normally dreams evaded Tomoka. No, not only dreams but sleep in general. It had been a long time since the last time she actually slept. Going inside her own mindscape while her body rested could be considered sleep. However, true sleep had eluded her for the longest time. A moment of respite for both body and mind. Today however, Tomoka slept and she dreamt. 

 

Sleep and more than that dreams are interesting concepts that bring wonder to the mortal mind. Dreams in which wondrous sights occur, where the laws of reality bend in fascinating ways. Could it be that dreams are more than just the creation of the mortal imagination? Perhaps dreams are instead the gateway to other realms. Maybe, they are instead the birthplace for new realities

 

Could our reality be the dream of another? And if so, what would be our fate should they wake up. Even more so, how could we be sure that we aren’t currently dreaming? Could it be that our dreams are the true reality? Perhaps being a̸w̴a̶k̸e̷ is another form of sleep. Wake up.

 

Perhaps we are asking the wrong questions. No, not the wrong questions. Instead, we have the understanding. Dreams and sleep, a wondrous form of the important action of rest. Could rest be an action? Or is it perhaps a form of inaction which births -Wake up- action in the form of dreams. Can a dream be real? No, instead the correct question is… what IS real?

 

Is what we see real? And if so, then can’t we see dreams? Are dreams real? Maybe what we taste, what we hear, what we touch, what we smell, what we can perceive. But we can taste, we can hear, we can touch, we can smell, we can perceive dreams. Dreams are as real as the world we deem to be reality. The difference is that- Wake up -we only live in dreams for what we perceive to be a short time.  

 

Dreams are as real as reality can get. In the world of dreams new beings come to be. Perhaps those beings can dream as well. What if -Wake up- reality is nothing more but the construct of an infinite amount of beings all dreaming different and unique realities in an infinite ladder of what IS and ISN’T. What if it’s not a ladder but a closed loop instead, where a dream dreamt what dreamt itself into reality?

 

Understanding and explaining the concept behind dreams like realities becomes far more complex the deeper one dives into the abyss of understanding. Complex thoughts and ideas clashing against the -Wake up- incomprehensive barrier of language. Concepts become harder to explain using words when they lack the necessary meaning to convey the thoughts behind them. 

 

Meaning, what is the meaning behind anything? Does the very -Wake up- concept of meaning mean anything? In the infinite sea of dreams and realities is there a single concept, a single meaning that is not altered by the same redundant conceptualizations preexisting in all that IS and ISN’T?  

 

Moreover, isn’t the concept of time and space another misunderstood facet of dreams? In memory one can reconstruct events of the infinite past somewhere in the infinity of space. Aren’t memories nothing more than dreams we bring from times not forgotten. Can we -Wake up- ascertain with absolute conviction that what we remember is not misconstrued by the rampant corrosion of our imagination.  

 

Is the corruption of our memories by our imagination even a wrong interpretation of what we attempt to construct as the past? If everything that is, was and will be -Wake up- is a dream being dreamt then isn't our dream of memory not a malleable dream being brought forth as a new yet old reality? 

 

It is a matter of bringing forth the spark of understanding to those that dream unknowingly. A possible s̷e̵e̵d̵ of possible impossibilities superimposed over what SHOULD and SHOULDN’T be. Is understanding even needed to -Wake up- a̵w̵a̴k̷e̴n̸ what lies beneath the sea of the subconscious? Even deeper than what the mind on all its levels may represent. 

 

What would be the result of a proper understanding of what CAN’T be understood? Would reality collapse into itself in a vortex of paradoxically uncontrollable controllable variables of what sets what IS and ISN’T that COULD and COULDN’T correct what is incorrigible? -Wake up- Would it result in the a̸w̶a̵k̸e̶n̶i̸n̷g̵ of something so absurdly other that any and all concepts would collapse into a singularity of meaning?

 

It is of utmost importance to understand that understanding itself is an impossibility set forth by the variance of dreams. Yet understanding is impossibly possible -Wake up- by those that stumble upon it. Could understanding be guaranteed to others through any means possible? Or is the very concept of understanding a meaningless endeavor. 

 

Concepts built upon the erroneous understanding or reality through the study of existence in a soup of inexisting dreams that coalesce through reality by means of sleep -Wake up- of those that exist within other dreams is fundamentally flawed. Is there a realistic way of understanding when we exist within the porridge of laws built upon the nothing that exists before and after a dream?  

 

Perhaps the only true way in which we could possibly reach the needed understanding is through the singular opposite action imaginable. If we all dream and dreaming is all we can do then -Wake up- a̶w̷a̸k̶e̷n̷i̵n̵g̷ ̶u̶p̷ would be the only feasible solution to our predicament. The question now is, how does one W̶a̸k̷e̵ ̵u̵p̵. The answer is as contradictory as fascinating. The only possible way to W̶a̸k̷e̵ ̵u̵p̵ is to simply… fall asleep.

 

“̴H̵e̵l̶l̴o̵ ̴l̶i̸t̶t̴l̷e̵ ̸s̵e̴e̷d̶l̴i̵n̸g̵.̴”̴ ̵̼̎“̵̬͒Y̶͔͑o̴͕̕ű̶̩ ̷͈̾s̷͙͋h̴̪́ő̴͎ů̷̲l̵͉̏d̴͉͛ǹ̶̙’̷̗͝t̸̺͑ ̶̢̿b̵̻̊ȩ̷̊ ̸̡͋h̸̖͌e̶̥͆r̶̬͛ę̸̔.̷̖͒”̶͔̋ “̶̤̓Y̴̡̤̿̅o̸͍̅͊ụ̴́ ̶̟̱̂͗c̶͈̯͊a̵̼̕͜ǹ̷̛͚̯’̵̢̗̃ẗ̸͕͒ͅ ̷̯̓̍h̸̗͓̿̒e̵̫̼͑à̷̹͉̓r̴̜̿ ̴̢̀m̷̜̅͊ė̸̖,̸̲͓̈͝ ̸̰̼͂c̷̅͜ã̵̫̞n̸̆ͅ ̶͉͂y̷̡̘̐͘o̸̞̖͐̅ȗ̶͓̃?̵̻́̏”̷̧̌̎ “̵̣̯̰̋͒͝N̵̮̦̽̃̅ó̴̗̼̞,̵̧͓͗͌͝ ̴͈̈́͐͝ń̷̪̫͝ò̵̟͙̿ ̶̫̌y̵͇̽͂ó̵̼̠͊̅u̶̳̯̐ ̷͙̽͝c̵̱̆͊͝a̶̯͙̭̓n̷̹̪̈̐͝’̸̨̂ṯ̴̠̘͌͌͌.̷̣̒͂̆”̷̠̑͜ “̴͔͇̭̎͐̌̋Y̵̨̻͎͗̌̀̃ó̴͎̇̒ú̴̝̮̮̲̂͠͝ ̵̢̛͔s̶̨̫͇̻͆̐ḩ̶̘̦̓o̸̡̢͈̖̔̏͝u̶̢͔̞͐̇l̸̥̫̆̚d̴͕̍̒ ̸̢͇͖́͋̌͘b̴̼͚̟̉̀͆́e̷̲̰̦̞͌̅ ̵̙̥͎͕͑̃̋̕b̴͙̼̈́̀̕r̵͎̔̀̕ȍ̶̧̝̓̀̿k̵̟͊ẽ̸̪͓͉̈́ń̶̬̠.̵͔̳͑̊͋͝”̸̢̲͎̂ “̸̙͇͗͊͘͝N̸̜̮̱̲̆̓̎͂o̸̦̫̖̒̄̓̚ͅ,̴̫̟̮̺̏̏̋̕͠ ̷̘̝̎͊̉̒̈́y̴̢̫͎͂̑o̵͍̓̍̂̕u̷̳̠͚͕̐̏͆̌̈́ ̵̛̼̤̻̲̭̒a̵̠̮̠̍̋̽͘͠ĺ̶̚͜ř̵͍̹̫̳̤̐ę̷̤͆̔͊̕ä̷̦̮̯́̌͑͌͝d̵̙̱͍͘y̷̮͍̥̔ ̴̱̬͊̒̽̀͜a̵͈̰̹͋̏̇͝r̸͙̬̄̔̉é̴̮̲̐ͅ.̵͙̘͕̭̾”̸͍̝̍̚ “̵̬͌I̸͙̘͕͔͙͐ň̴̨̙͇̜t̴̢̛̥̟̺̊́͊̌̑e̶̙̐̈́̏̐͝ŗ̴̼͈̟͆͆̄͊̿̔e̸͈̮̖̺̬̜͊̉̈̊̓s̷͇̲̉̃̑͝ț̶̤́̊i̷̱̟͌̄̈͛̎͝n̴̛̻͔̹̈́ǵ̸̢̨̞͚̥ ̶̱͙̥̭̩́̐͗͌̿͜l̵͓̘̦̬͂͗̑̔̇͐i̴̭̖͆͊͗̽t̶̪̦͔̲̀̉̓̃t̷͉͇͊͑͘͝ĺ̵̛̬̗͌̀̋̌e̶̡̹̬̳̝̘͒͊͝ ̶̯͓͓̥͆̂̃t̸͍̹͕͗́̎̓̊ḩ̴̹͎̹̩̖̔i̸̦̎̏̇͗̒n̸͙̥̦͎̣̻͆̓͌͌g̸̹̺̉̿́̈́̒.̷̢̪͎̣̻̪̑̃̿”̵̯̤̩̄̅͝͝ “̸̖̫̗͙̙̯̒͂͋̕ͅS̸̢̡̤̖͕͕̾ḩ̸̮̩͙͎̈́̌͐̄̿̚͝ả̷̛̙̟̠̤̹͒̉͠t̵̮͈̲̲̎͛͗̿ţ̵̣͍̝̻̓̃͆̈́̉͂ȩ̷̲̍̊͋͠r̶͚̣͖̫̒͝ę̸̧̥͒͜d̵͎̘̭̞́̎̍͌͐̂̚ ̸̢̻̲͈͎̻̫̂͛̚͝i̵͓̤͖͎̊̈́͌̓̕ņ̴͈̣̩̯͓͋t̸̢̳̟̗͎̒̂́͜o̵̧͙̤̱̹̭͚͒͊̿̐ ̷̡̥͉̈p̶̺̄͂̋̽ī̴̿͒͜͠e̵̖̝̾̎̚c̴̛̛̟̖̜̏̓̊̈́e̴̛̦̳̣͇̮̅̓͑̓̒̀s̸̝̯̀͠.̴̮̖͂”̸̳̳͍̰̝̏̏̒̂̆͋̕ “̴͚̻͙̩̱̅͋̌̄̋͑̀̕ͅN̵̜͖̄̓̒̊ó̷̥̭͖̜̅̋̔͂͆̕ņ̵̨̙̘̖͖̍̌͐̒ͅë̸̳̤̬͍̹̪̺̓͆́̐̈́̚͜͠ ̷̛̳̽̄̒f̶̗̹̭͈̮͆̓̄́a̸̟͛̎̔̏̚̕̚͝l̷̲͚͖̤̍̊̊́́͝ḽ̷͚̝̝̰̂̀̒̀ ̵̡̺̥̬͖̺̈́͊͆́ă̶̛͍͓̯̘͍̯͂͋̄̅ͅp̴̢͔̭̦͖͚̳̈̒͊̂͂́̔͠a̵̝̟̹͇͇͐͌́͜ͅr̵̻̭̰͚͛̉́̂͒t̵̢͖̳̄̈̂̄͊̚͘.̴̝͆̋̈́̚͝”̵̛̹̪̘̥͙̈́́́̔ “̴̼̐̇̆̈̅̚Ļ̸̞̖̱̠͕̖̗́̍̑̅̋î̷̥̑̕ţ̷̨̛͙͙͈̼̜̭͓̐̈̀̐̏̏̏̚ť̶̩͇̦̮̫͙͇̊̓̽̆͠ĺ̴̼͔̗̣͕̈͆e̷̗̼̣̙̳̒̉̓͐̄̿͠ ̷̡͉̥̘̙͖̖̳̹̋̋̌̿͝b̷̧̥̣̘̠̫͇̂̅̚r̸͕̲̗̱̔͒̆̄͒̕͜ô̶̡͚̺̑̅͗̽̎k̷̛͎̦̝̰̋̏͒̈͑̕͝e̵͈̬̞̞̖̽̀̑̔̆͠n̴̨̡̞͈͔͎̿͋͂̒͘ ̶̞͋ţ̴͇͚̗̮̬͖̦͒͂̄͜ḫ̸̢̀̓i̴̪̯̋̿̓̌͒̿͘͝n̴͈͒g̷̝̓̃͝.̵̘̜̗̝̰͐͂̅̂͝”̵̨̥̩̼̄́̅̏̈́́͗̕͜͜ “̶̨̘̪̗̰̗́͒Ḏ̵̕͝o̸̝̥̣̹̽͑̈́̽ ̶̙̤̭̉̓͜y̷̢͙̻̭̗̞͆̈́͂̓͆͌̀̉̒o̷͈͖̝͌̈̊͊̈́͝͝ͅü̵̧̬̹̬͉̆̀̋̅̏̍ ̷̢̺̭̜̄̀͋͜ͅk̴̞̈͐̈́͊̽̇́̾̽n̸̬͖͑̈́̃̚͝ȍ̵̤͚̹͙̲̖̱̩͊͜ͅw̸̢̢̠̜̭̥̰̲̆ ̸̡̙̞̮͉͉̝͉̈́͌̆̔̀̓͗̈͘͠w̴̨̨̦̖̳̖̏̓̐͛̿̀̇̀͊ͅh̵͔̣̭̤̑̉̓ͅą̷̡̠̲̪̉͒̐ţ̶̢̬̝̖̼̱̜̻̽̄ ̵̗̘͙̻͎̙̼͔̈́͂̽̐̄̀͗͋̐͝y̴̧̫̌ō̵̩̪͈̹̪͓͐ų̶̢͍͇̤͍̤͉͚̲̌̈́ ̷̧̦̠͚̞͍̔̑̄̅à̷̼̿̾̉̐̐̃̑͝͠r̶̹͖͚̳̤̖̈́̐̇͐͗̏̋͜ȩ̴̢̨̙̞̺͓̦̠̮̈͒̑̔̊̓̿̾̕͠?̵͚̠͎̔̎̚”̶̢͎̝̤͎̋̏͒̐͆̿͂̚͜͝ “̶̱͚͎̈́͜Ä̵̧̢͇̞̻̞̥́͑͂́̌̕ ̷̲̹̗͖̽͐͂͑͝͠p̵̢̡̞̣͇̮̲͙̘͈̂̋̐͊͆̅̍͝r̴̢̐̃̾̎̕͝é̸͙̋̾͋̈́͝͠t̸̛͓̿̃̏̑̆̌͝ţ̶̧̝̜̯̺̺̼̹̥̈ŷ̷̩̯̩̬͛̾͗́̆ ̶̨̢̭̬͕̠̊̀̈̈́̇͒̈́͗̋͘l̵̺̪͗̈́̽͛̇̉̈́͠i̵͓͓͍͚͇̭̊̓̈́̊̎̎̔̄̚͘t̶̟̠̗̼̳̰͇̗̣̼̯͆̀̿̈̆̕t̶̡̲͔̘̺̲̜͔͆̊̆̄͑́͑̏̕͝l̶̡̧͔̻͓͖̇e̴̹͘ ̴̞͗̈̕͝͠s̵̛̰̈̄̽̒̿͝e̷̡̹͓͖̜̺̲̠͕͎̋̾̎́̓̃͑ẻ̶̢̡̦̙̩̻̖̝̼̯͛̒d̸̯͔͇͎̰͇͂͒̔l̸͇̜̹̳͊͒̆̉̿͜ì̴̢̝̩̩̖̲̜̜̦̳̄n̵͙̜͒̃͘ǵ̴̠̟̫̫̜̹̳̒͐͛̌̀͠͝.̷͇̤͍̥̮͚͙̫̀̈́̔͊̒͑̂͜͠͝”̵̨̰͓̓̅̀͐͗͠͠ “̴͈̮̤̿̀͌͝͠T̸͈͚̮͚̥͔͖̠̀͂̆̔̒͐͜͝h̷̡͓͙̞̭̺̳̊͋̂͊͊͘͜à̷̘̗͕̜̒̔̔̔̃̎̌͛t̵̻͔̫̣̳̤͗̈́̈́͝ ̵͚̖̯̐̓̽̔̐̉̏͒̄͘r̸͙͖͉͔͚͚̉̔̒͑̕̕̕e̸̦͈͕͔̳̩̎͗͛̚f̸̝͇̫̥̪͖͊̈́͂̾̒͊̀̒͜͠ͅű̶̡̡͚̥͉̳͎̞̰̟̜͒͛s̶̡̨̭͕̮̻̭̙͆̈́̇̀́͛͛̀̚ͅé̴͔̪̙͗̓̓̿͗̕͝s̴̘̎̆͆̏̐̕͜͝ ̷̧̗̫̰̳̦̝̖̬̺̐͘ͅͅṱ̵̨̺̈͑̅̈́̈́͑́̏̇̈̄̍ǫ̵̙̬̘͔̬̦̗̯̂̕͜ ̶̬̘̹͔̣̼̳̪͙̓̒͆͒͗͜f̷̨̨̫͕̠̙̦̞̗̎̓͂̈́́̄̚͠͝a̸̻̰̟͍̩̟͕͍̺̰̫̪͌͊͆̋̾̆͊̅̉̔̕̕l̸̳̖̀̔̃̃͛͝l̵̰̫̩̳̩̻̮̜͎̀̈̊̊̿͑͆͘̚̚ ̴̙̳̝̬͍̳͔̺̪͖͉͚̈́ǎ̶̠̜̦̹̆̄p̶͙̐̆̊̈́̾̃̈̒́ä̷̼̻͎̹́̔r̵̡̧̞̻̣̣̣͍͔̮͉͊͑̓̾͂̋́̈́̉͝͠͝ẗ̵̨̨̤̮̰͇̏̽̽̃͛͌͛.̷̞̈͗̄̍̍̎”̷̛̥̲͎̗̥͚̼͚͖͇͚̈͑̊̄̄̏͑̇͗̚͘ “̵̣̤̘̳̫̿͐̈̐̇̄̂̚ͅI̴̼̗̐̿̏ṣ̴̻͔̻̥̅̌̚ ̸̜̻̿̓͒͆̀͑̈͒͠i̴͍̩̮̹̹͎̤͍̙͑̀͜t̵̨̡̛͔̳͈̮͓̭̋̔ ̴̨̱̲̩̳̣͔̪͉̬̚t̴͚̜͖͈̘͔͉̣͛͊̈̐͑i̷̱̘̟̼̯͗̽̂͒̂͌͛̾̆́́̉͘m̵͓̖̣̺̩̥̌͊̈̑̅͝ͅe̶̢̠͙̲͖͓͈͖̦͌̓̕͝ͅ ̴̨̧̛̳͖̹̻͔͔͙̟̥̟͂̀̆́͂̐͘͜͝f̸̢̧̻̮̙͇͍͉̞̉̎̃͜ͅo̸̧͈̤̟͕͙̮̊͋̂͋̇͂̕͠ͅr̴̢̧̡̛̘̖͕̲͎̳̰̆͋͗͊̄͑͘̕͝ͅͅ ̵͚̩̱̪͙̮͕͙͚̈͒̈͛̾̈́̓͘a̶̺̠̩͉̘̲̝̱͖̭̚ ̶̱͎̓̕n̶̹͍̹̱̜̑̃̑ë̸͓̹̦̮̫̲̖͈̻̜͙͊̇̓͆͝w̶̨̘̗͙̣̻̥͍͎͇̪͓͋́͆̚ ̸̨̧̬̹̣̪̭̠̠͖̘͇̳̀̈́̋̍͐̽ȍ̷̫͚͈̗͉̙̠̗͉̀́͑͌̔̀̇̃ͅͅn̶̦̖̠͍̠͖̠̪̊̔ͅȩ̶̡̡̢̪̣̠̱̫̙̼͝ ̷̨̮͙͖͓̖̰͔͉͛̀̏̂͗̎̈́̀̄̃̊̽̔t̵̨̺̲͈͙̫̱̳̝̮̳̜́̃͜o̸̧͈̰̺̹̰̫͇͈͕͋͑͆͒̑̋͑ ̷̨̧̧̡̞̬̱͕̠͎͈͈̻͒͑͌̓̒͊b̸̼̹̟̘̈́͊̄̑̓̎̈́͘͘͘ë̵̞̦́͑̐̃̓̂ ̴̛̪̫̙̳͍̘̂͂͒͗̄̃̽͗ͅb̶̰̣͕̪̰̥͈̻̱̠̳̀̀͗̍̔͌̓͒͂͝o̸͓̯͓̣͕͍̰̹̊̄̂r̶͕͐ņ̷̨̱͙̱̗͖̥̰͑̈̑̽̃͆̀͂̾̍͛̚͠ͅͅ?̴̆̽̇̆ͅ”̴̡̨̪̘͔͉̥̮̠͉̹̃̑͊͋̕ “̶͈̺̰̗͑͗̓̀W̵̼͙͉̪͕̟̭͖͇̟̤̞̻͒̓͐́̏̐͑̆̈́͝i̷̢̛̻̳̥̰̎̐̊̂̚l̸̫̄̇̂͗̉͛̂l̴̯̉̌͆̽̅̄͋̃̚̚͝ ̷̞̞̩̦̘̐̒t̷̡̛͍̲̠͙̖̪̱̳͔̰͙̰͒̂h̸̛̳̫̝̄̾̓̏͛̆ę̷̡̡̛̭͎̙̟̲̘̙͊̆̾͒͒̔͘̚͝͝ ̷̝̤̱̉͂͘l̶͖̳̈́̃̌į̶̪͓̳̈́̽̾̈́́̆t̶̨̝͇͈̟͆̃̉̈́͛̕̕ţ̸̬̠̞͉̰̣̗̱̅͘͠l̸̛͎͊̂̽̋̒̽̐͝ͅę̶͖͕̯̤̖̩̈́͜ͅ ̵̨̛̜̣̘͇̗̱̼̼̻̹̰̿̐̓̈́͊̆̚ͅs̴͎̣̼̘͉̦͓̱͔͛̽̓̃̑̇̈̓́̒̚͘͠ẹ̵̏̓̔̐̽̊͗̿͆̄̔̕ȩ̷̨̥̥̲̮̮̼͊d̸͔̤̰̹͇̹̱̔͐̒͂͆͋̆͐̿͋͂͝l̶̢̧̥͉̬̤̜͓̘̆̎̿̄̒̆̚͠͝i̷̧̛̬͖͔͓̲͎͓̬̱̭̼̿͂͋͋̐̚n̴͓͊͌̌͝͝ģ̷̡̦̠̯͖̲̤̌̏̑̒̔͐́͆͗̚͜͜͝ ̵̡̡̲̹͕̳̣̩̘͑͋̅͋͆͋̓̚̚g̷̻͖̟̯̝͙͓̱̜̠̬̈́̿̽͑r̴̢̛͍͔͓̘̥͋̏́ó̴̢̪̪̺̟̼̹̗̙̳̜̝̈͛̐̊͌̐͘͜͝ẅ̵͚̫͙̾͌̄͑͌̈̏͘͝?̶̢͔̰̯̪͑̉̎́͑͂̑͛̚͜”̵̛̞͎̤̍̃̅̋̈͊̓̿͘ “̸̳̩̬͈̈́͗̽͐ͅW̴̢̟̝͚̭̲̜̬̩̘̄̃̾͝ę̷͔͙̊ļ̵̻͕̌͌̀ĺ̷̡̥̣̝͈̫̙̖̠͍̌́̿̚͜͜͠ͅ ̸͕͈͂̎̾̌͋̋̎͗̓͂̓͝ͅl̴̮͖̙͇̠͍̝̐į̸͙̭̞̮̹͈̪̰͎̮̥̳̩̐̄͌ţ̴̛̝̻̙̮̦͉̬̳̤͓̭̬̐̌͗͘͝ͅt̵̺̬̦̻͗͛̃̈̊́̓͌̕l̸̤̜̯̠̙̝̮̭͖̪͇̓̆̒͛̌̀́̎͜ẹ̵̰̹̲̭̲̗͑͂̀̉̒ ̵̢̛̛͕͇̦͈̝̻͇̲̲̬̭̀́s̷̨̘̰̬̲͓̻̫͙̟̹͙̭͐͐͗̀́̾e̶̢̨̤̰͖̙̲̝͉͓̻̮̒͗͊͛̈́̈̎͊̔̓͆̆e̸̡̧̘̙̟̲̘̣͎̘̻͙̣͐̒̀̈́̏̌͌̌͋͝d̷̨͇͙̝̰̩̳̹̯͈͛͂̄͛̽̃̊͆͂̽͜͜ͅl̷̻̞̪̮̜̲͇̘̤̗̣̯̹͗̿́̄̂͝͠ȉ̵̛̲̳̟̪͉̤̖̪̝̩̟̇̂̓͋̓̅̓͜͜n̶̹͛͑̑͂̆̃̋̌̔̑̀̇͝͠ģ̴̨̞̞̖͎͉̮̽͒̇̒́̔͌̊̐̒́̓̕͝.̸̧̯̜̭̝̖̻̞͉̈́͋̽̅͗͆̔͂̕͜͠”̴͇̺̣̥͑̂͋͒̒̎̇̊̉̃͠ͅ “̸̙̻̗͖͕̝̐̑͝ḏ̶̱̥̩̯͍͗̄͂ȯ̷̡̰̖͚̜͈̠̠̝̭̮͕͍̜̀̌̔̓͌̓̚ ̵̰͉͍̭̠̻̙͍̲͈͕̣̮̍̽̌̄̽̏̿̓̆͘͜͜͝n̵̼̣͑̄͠͝ͅo̵̡̘͔̾̂̓͘t̶͚̙̦̠̪̭̜̟̠͐̾̈́̇̒̐͝ ̵̨͙̪̦͖̣̟͈̗̙̩̳̅̇̋̑̂̐̚͝ͅf̶̛̤̣̤̪̙́͛̀̌̚o̵͈̬̝̫̼̼̦̫̝̲̝͋r̴̙̝̪̣̠̞͉̍̐g̷̹̰͚̈́̈̓̃̐̄̎̍̒̊͑͠͠͝ͅẹ̶̘̪͖͇͎̲̗̗̜̤͐͛͊̈́̌͐͋̒̐̈́͌̊̕͜͝͝t̵͎̘̯̩̻̻̲̞͙̆̎͛͆̂ ̷̱̺̏̑y̶̗̙̭̹̖̲͉̣̖̻͚̥̦̍̏ͅo̶̧͇̱̹͚̺̮̱̬͇͙̩̯̲͌̎̂̍͌͗́̈́͘͜u̸̞̻͔̮̜̮͍̤͓̟͉̐̓͒̀̏r̴͈͓̼͔̞̐͆̄̾͆͊̀͋͜ ̸̧̡̛͚͚̠̠̜̯͓͖̭͉̘̓͒́̏̈́̚ņ̸̙͔̞͙̙͍̩̩̆̒̐̋͗́̈́̚ͅá̸̡̢̨̙̣͓͔̹̬̼̹͐̆̏̊͛̈́̓̑̊̚͜͜͝m̷̡̡̨͍̩̞͚̣̥͒̀̄̃̿̅̂͛̍ȩ̸̒͊̽̏̇͝͠.̷̡̤̗̤͙̯̫̗̫͈̩̭̻̈͂̃̉̓̈́̂̑͐̓̋͛͑̕”̵͚̜̲̤̬͚͔͓̣̯̼̘̏̾̉̃̂̎͂̂̈́͂͘͠͝͠“̵̣̻̫̞̩̩̤̰̊̋̀̾T̷̲̣̹̤̪̗̩̼́̔̐́̓͗͒̀̈́̾͠͝ͅh̷͙̘̮̘̩̍͂̊͝e̸͓͕̺̼͉̗̟͊̌̇̅ ̴̰͕̥̫̠͕̗̦͒̿̽͂̐͑͊̊̅́͑͋̕̕̚͝ͅb̸̢̠̙̤̤͚̗̘͓͚͉͎̘̑̈́͌̀̎̀͝r̶̡̧̨͚̟̗̥̹̣̥̤̈̽̓͒̓̍o̶̟͎͈͇̰̮̻̜̮̱͋̃̉́̽̋͋̉̾̈͗ḵ̵̬̖̜͎̰̘̲̓́̎̍͑e̶̟̦͂̀̈́̑͑̄͝͝n̷̙̙̝̾́͂̆̆͛̅ ̷̯̦̙̙̦͓͋͛̌͂̀̅͒͆̉̓̉̆͜͜ơ̴̫̻̫̫̗̮̫͐͗̐͐̑͝n̸̫͎̎̒͒͌͝ͅȩ̷̪͔̜̬̓̽̇̌͝ ̸̧̡̛͔̗͈͚͚͕̩̘̝͕͌̍̈́͆͊̑̿̋͒͋͛͝͝ͅḁ̷̯͎͊̉m̷̡̲͎͖̥̖͎͓̈́̅͊͐͝͝o̶̢̡͙͖̫͋͛̈́͗͌̎̃͂͊͆͊̃̄̈́͝ͅn̵̛̗̻̪̩̒̀̉̈́͒͌̆̓̑͋̉͂ͅͅǵ̴̝̪̥͓̗̻̩̺̀̒̉s̸̡̞̝͕̮̈́̄̊̍̉t̷̢͎̬̏͋̄̈́͊̐̑̓̿ ̷̡̼̺͉̮̺̳̣̑̑̓̂͋̌̍́̊́͗͛͘͠u̷̹̰͓̼͚͎̘̪͉̘̻͎̮̮͋̾̎͒͆̌͆ͅs̸̲͙̻̣̐̄̇̊͘͘.̴͓͚̙̪̭̳̦͊̎ͅ”̴̰͉̀͝ͅ “̸̨̨̺͉̟̝̣̭͙̺͉̝̦̣̬͇̒̀͋̈́͜͜͠T̴̜͔͕̻͔̙̮̜̭̯̝̠̘͚͕̔h̴̨̡̨͙̘͇͕͙̫̺̣̺̹̘͓͆̑́̉̈́͐͊͆̓́̃́̽̉̈́̓e̴͙̣̟̽ ̵͎̤͚̮̣̼̜̟̳́̐̐̐̈́͋̂̄̓́̽͂̊̓ͅó̶̢̳̭̥͊͒̏ͅń̴̯̰͋̈́͋̈́̀̆̓͛̄̇̚̕͝e̴̼͈͛͊̑̄̌̈́͋̆̌̈̚ ̶̢̢̱̮͓͉͉́͐̐̓̋͑͌̀̈́͐̒͐̾̔ạ̶̰̺̞͇͎̬̲̩̬̘̰̰͕̑̽ͅñ̵̛͎̥̫̠̳̗̐̌͂̏͛̈́̑̍́̕̚͘͝͝͝d̴̨̧̩̮̰̮̘̞͓̺̟̃̍̎́̂͂ͅͅ ̸̧̘̺̣̬̭͖̣̻̳͙̼̾̆͋̒͊̈́͑̓̅̔͐̂͘̕͝͠ơ̴̛̛͙͎͉̙̲̣̺̽̾̇̈́̔̐̑̋̄̌̄͑̌͆͠ň̴͉̰͍̾͋̀̔͋͌̀͌́͋͗̊̒͘l̶̳̣̙͙̊̅͒͆̆͐̈́̎̽̊̈͛͗͗̋͝͝y̶̤̖͕̑̿͑̆.̷̤̜̯̬̱̼̟̼͈̮̈́́͝"̸̢̠̞̪͍͇̭̙̲̳̝͕̖̬̿̉̇̀̊̏̎̏ "̵̨̨̧̛͕̘͕̃̀̍͒̆̆̽̓͂̔̍̀̈́͆̓͛̑█̶̢̢̨̬̪̳͙̗̹̜̪̖̠̤̙͚̝͉͍̙͙͇͖̠̗̬̣̜̺͈͕̖͈̼̤̍̀̃̒̎̐̆̃̂͋̇̈͌́̀̓̂̿̎̂̿̍̉̿͑̌̀̾̈́̀̍̕̚͜͜R̴̡̧̢̢̧̢̧̛̘̞͖̳̩̟͓̱͍̣̫̖̱̳͎͓̪͓̉̀̿̅̉̃̿͗̀̑͂̀̀̾͝█̸̛̛̛͕̻́̎̾̿̈́̎͆̂̉̎̅͗͆̾̾̚͜͝͝K̶̛̛̛̜͍͙̻͔̻̬̙̱̪̺̭̭͑̐̏̽̏͂̈́́̒̈́͂̀̓͒̊̂̈́̑̾̃́̒̑̌̔͐͗̋̈́͝͝͝█̵̢̨̡̛͓͖̤̮̬̼͈͍̱͕͙̝͈͍̳̺̬͈̳̩̩͍͇̠̼̖̺̫͓̝͎̠͓̝̥̞̏̓̎̂́̍̓͊̑̀͑̈́͒́̍͜͠ͅ█̷̛̟͚͖̥̲̩͈͇̤͙̯͉͓̻̦̮̲̈́̏̍̆̿̌̂̽͐͛͂̃͋̉͗̀̏̓̒̔̀̌̀͆͝͝ ̸̨̧̧̧̨̡̨̜̙͙̩̩̻̪̺̻̣̭̻̜̦̯̫̹͍̟̣̜̳̭̰̙̜̞̼̘͕̼̞̳͈͇̼̟͌͐͂̋̉̒̄̈̂͌̄͘̚͜͜͝ ̸̨̧̛̛̪͚̳̞̻̭̥͎̱̗̳̖̩̗̤̩̱̘̺̮͕̳̺͈̪̦͍͋̎̏̌̽̌́̍̈́̈́̑̀̊̔̆̓̈́̓̌͆̓͂́͑͐̑͒͆̃̋̌͗͑̏͂̈̏̊́̉̚̚͜͝͝͝█̸̨̟̲̗̲̙̜̭͎̬͍̣̲̬͎̘̹̙͓͇͖̪̖̰̣̳̝͓̳͖̦͙̻̲̱̝̗̖͚͉͍̭͇͓̱̪͚̩͗̃͊̂̀͂̔̈́̇̈́̀͂̓͠͝█̵̯̪͓͙͕̘̳͖̘̝̥̓͛̒̐̒́̌̽́̄̏͑̒̄̇̈́͊͐̑̅̈́̚̚E̴͚̗̩̻̘̤̖̅̈́́̅̊̆̌̒̓͌̂͆̃̿͂͒̒̉̃͒.̴̨̨̨̢̭͙͖̺̪͇͕͙͕͎̙͔̥͍̦̯͚͇͕͙̭̺̮̲͓̹̮̞̫̳̓̈́̔̀̈̒́́͗̃͊́͑͝”̵̧̨̨̨̢̠͖͉̩̭͖͙̺̹̙͈̭̣͔̙̫̱̟̱̲͓̜̫͙̦͕̑̑̒͋̀̐̈́͗͐̅̄̃̈́̑̉́̆̅̍̓͌̋̓̾̂͜ ̴̢̧̧̧̧̢̳̙͕̬̖͙̖̲̗̣͖̦̭̞̬̬̙̦͚̺͖̻̪̼͚̫̳͔̞̺̱̭̃̄̊̿̆́͜ͅ ̷̨̨̡̛̛̰͓̱͚̝̰̖͔̫̣̩͓͙̙̰̲͑̃͛̇̉̐̃̇̿̏͑̐̋̆͛̐͊́͗̅̒̇̿̂̉̐̀̒̇͆̿̋́̓̃͗̓̈̉͌̈́̓͜͝͝͝͝ͅ ̷̨̧̨̛̬͓̰̭̤͇͖̦̤͈̞̫͚͕̫̪͕̑́̋͊̀̂̍̔̊̐̊̆͝ █̷̨͖̹̩̫̣̜̟͕̩͇̪̩̠͓̣̟̝̻͙͙̣̯̟̼̘̘̠̙̘̰̦̰̖̤͚͖̤̲̉̀̔̇̌̆̈͆͒̌̇̒͜͜͝█̵̛̙̣͉̹̠̦̝̹̱͚̮̠̗̣͔͙̙̦͎͙͉̥̀̈́̆̒̌̆̈́̿̑̿̂̀́̾̉̑̋́͐͗͌̂͋̐̔̓̂̌̐̔͂̚͘̚͘͜͝T̸̛̳̉̓̈́́̄͊̒̊̍̎█̷̡̟̬͖̺̘̭̥͍͔͕̣̳͖̦̲͎͇͉͎̪̩͍̱̦̀͋̊̒̃̿͑̿̀́́͗̊͆̌̎̏͘̚͝͠█̸̢̢̧̢̟̯̣͇̺̪̙͚͚̻̭̼̝̖͉̳̖̼̘̜̫̰̬̱͓̙̈́̈́̌̎́͒̕͜͠ͅͅ█̸̨̢̢̨̣̻̮̼̮̞̯̱̤̱͕̞̱̺̖͉̙̙̮̮̳̙̦͇̱͇̠͊̎̇̅͂͒̽͊̈͠͠-̴̧̢͚͚̺̔̃̇̽͌́̏̑̄̂͑͗̒́̎͑͒̋̉͊͗͛̾̅̚̕͜͠█̶̧̡̡̜̣̗͇̬̰̳̯̙̚█̴̧̨̧̡̡̧̡̡̢̞̺̪̥͖̯̞̟̫͇͙͔̣̠̖̝̱̖̻̘̞̭͎̠͙̤̥͔͕̰͎̲͉̲̿̓͜͜ͅR̴̡̢̛͍̗̦̮͇̟͚̙͇̯͖̮͙̤͉̻̼̩̺̩̦̘̩̩͙͕͎̣̠͔͕͔̤̳̗̻̜̱̣̝̙̱̱̈͑́̓̈́̀̔̈́͐̓͐̾̿̐̈͑̽̑́̈͛̀͆̾̀̔̿̂͗̉͂̃̈́͒͊̇́̽̎̋̌̀̃́͘͘̕̚͜ͅ█̸̨̧̨̢̢̛̙͖̬̭͚̘͚͓̤̲̦͇̼͈̖̪͇̟̩͈̪̼̞͖̟̥̭̺̼͕̫̬̬̫̘̲̯̩̹̱̤̝̿̋͋̃́̆̃̓̍́̆̌̿̀̌̑͌̿̍̀̀̈́̂̾̄̉͆͌̊̄́̾͒̈͑̀̈̈́̑͂͘̕̚͝ͅ█̵̨̨̢̨̙̯̲̹̤͈̲̮̜͈̮͚͕̮̮͓͖̖̞͈̫̼̰͉̦̱̬̫̮̞̩͚̪͐͑̏͆͒̓̈́̽̎̔█̸̧̒͐́͂̏͑̒̀

-̸̧̛̛̱̖̀͛̂̂̿͊̓͂̔̈́̔̄̓͌̄̽͛̍̄̃̊́̔̀̊̒͌͛͗̍̒͒͆͊͗̏̚͝͠W̴̢̛͈̪̥̘̘̳̽̽͂͠Ą̶̛̘̻͈̥̰̯͓͇̲̣̞̞̜̳̙̗̦̠̺̪̹͍̜̝͈̔̀̈́͒́̾̓̑̇̆̄͛̈́̓͂̽̑̏͗̓̂̀͂̇̄̎͑͐̿̓̌̓̐̕͜͝͝͝͝͝ͅK̴̨̧̡̢̢̢̡̢̡̫̦̪̳͉̦̪͇̺̯̹̣̻̺̝̝̥̙͔̣̰̣̗̳͈͚̮̪͚͕̞͈͔̗͐̏̊̌́͜͜͜ͅͅḘ̴̡̧̨̡̧̡̡̟͔͔͙̜̞͈͕̻̭͚̼̣͓̝͓͖̱̰͖̮̲̰͕͇͓͔̘̳̱̦̞̜̯̰̹̲̖̤̰̓͊͌́̂̾͌̓͑̅͌̇̀̓̍̈̔̿̂̅̌̓̔̌͐̐͐̂͛̍̃̋͛̚̚͝͠͠ͅ ̷̩̜̉̂̀̏̌̇̾͜ͅU̸̡̡̧̱͎̜̟͈͕͚̭̖̺͇̘̟͇̯̰̠̺̗̲̖̹̭̖̗͍̭̱̥̲͍͇̫̳̮̮̰̐̄̐̈́͂͘͘͠ͅP̶̨̢̨̡̨̧̨̛̛̛̬̲̮̝̤̤͇̤͎̗̻̰̤̘̣̤͚̺͚͕̳̮̘̫̹̦͚͈̦͈͉͓̾̆̓̀̒̾̉͛̐̋͛́̎̎̍́̓̽̀̇̌̾̈̅̽͗͂͌̄̂́͊͊̑̈̋͗͒̕̕̕̚͜͝͠͠-̸̛̳͇͈́͑͋͛̂͊̒̏̄̋͌̋̆͌͌̂̾̎̈́͗̄̊̀͘

Tomoka opened up her eyes as a pounding headache assaulted her mind. Thoughts were coming slow as her brain tried and somewhat failed to reboot. She remembered having some fun with her girls the night prior after some drinking. She remembers closing her eyes next to them after the three had tired themselves out. Normally she would have stayed awake in her mindscape doing whatever she felt like doing in there. Instead as she tried to recollect what happened after she closed her eyes a series of strange blurry recollections came to mind. 

 

Words from unknown voices of unknown origins. It felt like she had dreamt about a dream which in itself sounded odd. Perhaps, the alcohol she had drunk the night prior had been a bit stronger than she suspected. Deciding to not bother any longer with the weird dream she had, Tomoka's attention moved towards something more appealing, two something. 

 

With a mischievous smile Tomoka began softly kissing the glorious pair of breasts that belonged to Hinata. She started by barely caressing her lips against the soft skin. Followed by small kisses. Seeing as Hinata wouldn’t wake up, Tomoka continued to ramp up her care for the mounds of flesh. By the time she was giving them small bites Hinata began moaning in her sleep. Deciding that she had enough of the slow play Tomoka bit the now diamond hard nipple hard enough to cause some pain yet gently enough to cause no actual damage. With a rather loud moan Hinata opened her eyes. The first she saw was the mischievous smile from Tomoka as she held Hinata’s nipple between her teeth.  

 

“Tomoka~ have some self control please, I am still sore from yesterday~” Despite the protest Tomoka could tell that Hinata was both eager for and dreaded the possibility of another round of sex. To her immense relief and disappointment Tomoka actually stopped. She had just wanted to do some teasing. After all, she still needed to finish the tour of Yggdrasil. 

 

“Hehe, it's your own fault for being so tasty.” Having said her response, Tomoka turned around to see the still “sleeping” Nozomi. She was obviously still asleep, please ignore the prominent blush in the girl’s cheeks, that is just because of the heat in the room despite it being rather chilly. 

 

Seeing Nozomi peacefully resting, Hinata decided to join Tomoka in waking up the girl. Like a pair of hungry beasts the duo mauled Nozomi’s breasts with kisses and caresses until the girl “woke up”. By that point Tomoka was sorely tempted to say fuck it and engage in another round of… fucking. However, she managed to gather whatever scraps of self control she could and stopped before things could escalate any further. 

 

“Ahem, we should stop now, we still need to finish the tour.” Her words only earned her a pair of pouts. Despite how sore the duo felt they very much enjoyed Tomoka’s “gentle” nightly ministrations. That and the fact their bodies were far more resistant to both damage and exhaustion made it so their nightly activities after effect, such as sore muscles, became a problem of a minute or two of chakra flow through their bodies. 

 

After a shower to get rid of both the smell and crusty leftovers of their fun the trio left their room to find some breakfast. It is worth mentioning that were it not for Tomoka’s foresight of showering at different times they wouldn’t have left as quickly as they did. With bathrobes in place and some underwear to hide their modesty incase of accidents the trio sat down while the food was served. 

 

A veritable feast of different breakfast foods became visible as more and more platers full to the brim with food were served. From sausages to beacon, from waffles to pancakes any and all types of breakfast foods could be found. At a glance it would look like a huge waste of food taking into consideration that only eight people would be eating at the table. However, it is worth mentioning that all eight of these people were ninjas who could eat their weight in food any day of the week.

 

Not minding the fact that the others weren’t here first, Tomoka began serving herself some food. Starting with a glorious stack of pancakes Tomoka ate them with different dressings like marmalade, syrup, melted chocolate amongst others. She of course also fed her girls with all the love and care in the world. Even to the point of cleaning up their cheeks with her lips when they made a bit of a mess while eating.  

 

As the girls feasted another pair of girls made their appearance. Once with shimmering blond hair and innocent blue eyes. The other in contrast had eyes and hair of an equal obsidian black. Both looked sleepy and somewhat tired. It was more than obvious that they just woke up and the smell of delicious food had brought them by the nose. 

 

“I see you two had fun last night.” Tomoka, who had been busy stuffing her mouth hole with the different foods available, quickly swallowed before making her comment. How could she not, after all, Naruko had a rather prominent hickey on the area of her collar bone which was clearly visible thanks to her poorly put on Kimono. 

 

As if lightning had hit them both girls stood ramrod straight with their eyes wide open. A myriad of questions flowed through their mind ranging from: “How did she notice?” to “What do I do now!?” However, as trained shinobi they refocus quickly hiding their surprise before speaking. 

 

““How!?”” Yes, like perfectly trained shinobi, the duo asked with a deadpan. Don’t let their raised tone of voice or their flushing cheeks deceive you. They were perfectly in control of their emotions and actions. 

 

“Well, for starters, you two are wearing each other's kimono-” As soon as Tomoka said this part Naruko and Satsuki quickly turned to look towards each other instantly noticing the fact that they were indeed wearing each other’s clothes. In their sleepy state they had taken the clothes with the scent they found to be relaxing to themselves which turned out to be each other’s scent. 

 

 “That and Naruko has quite the prominent hickey on her.” Tomoka was enjoying every second of the interaction. Seeing the two girls get more and more flustered made for great entertainment in the morning. Hinata and Nozomi agreed as they were currently trying and failing to stop themselves from giggling. 

 

Naruko for her part quickly covered the offending hickey with her clothes. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized that that hickey was only one of the many she had received from the rather possessive Satsuki the previous night. However, there was something she still needed to do to save herself and her girlfriend some face.

 

“We didn’t do anything!” With her amazing oratory skills Naruko perfectly explained herself so no misunderstandings could come into being. 

 

“Yeah, not buying it.” This time it was Nozomi the one to talk as she looked towards Naruko like she had just affirmed with absolute certainty that the sky is purple and the moon is made out of cheese. 

 

“W-we really didn’t do IT.” Satsuki for her part wanted to be anywhere else but here right now. Despite that, she still wanted to help Naruko and herself by making things clear. 

 

 “I believe you.” 

 

“No, really we didn’t- wait, you do?” Naruko was about to continue defending her and her girlfriends dignity until she properly understood what Hinata said. 

 

“Yeah, if the two of you had actually fucked you two would be almost glowing from the experience. That and you two would also be action a lot more lovey dovey than you are now.” With Hinata’s words came a new wave of embarrassment for the duo. 

 

“Well, I guess that's enough teasing, come eat some, the food is really good. Having received a way out the duo quickly sat down to eat. Though as time passed and they forgot their embarrassment a pink atmosphere began to form around them as the two love birds began to feed each other with smiles on their faces. 

 

That was precisely the scene Temari and Karin stumbled into as they entered the room. The duo had met in the hallway and talked about their actions the day prior. Though alcohol could, and should be blamed for a lot of what they did the day prior. It was still undeniable that the two girls found each other attractive to some degree. 

 

In the end with teenage hormones running wild and curiosity burning bright they decided to try something out. Long story short with some kissing involved. The blond and redhead decided to give being together a try. This however didn’t mean that the first thing they wanted to see in the morning after their talk was the two groups with such a thick pink atmosphere that the wall could very be seen behind. 

 

“Do you all ever stop flirting?” 

 

“No”

 

“Nope”

 

“Nuhu” 

 

Temari’s question received instant answers from the shameless trio of Tomoka, Hinata and Nozomi. While Satsuki and Naruko opted to look downwards at their plates full of food with reddened cheeks.   

 

With a sigh Temari took karin’s hand before finding a place to sit down and eat. She did wonder how her siblings were doing but taking into consideration she had a redhead to flirt with now she decided not to worry about it. 

 

Meanwhile, Kankuro, Gaara and Orochimaru began steering awake after their wild night. The first thing Kankuro noticed once he woke up was the presence of a rather long tongue dangerously close to his own mouth. Second thing he saw was his brother Gaara hanging from the ceiling's chandelier as he slept. Third was the owner of the tongue who currently looked like a boneless noodle as he slept. Finally he noticed the fact that all three of them were naked. He became pale before passing out. 

I think I was triping on something when writing the first part of this chapter. Ah! Right, sleep deprivation, good times.

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