• (s/c) = skin colour

• (h/c) = hair colour

Third Person POV :

You were weird. That's the only thing that Berthold could be certain of. And that was way before you just disappeared into thin air next to him after passing out. He had so many questions and honestly, you didn't look like you could answer them. Unless you were just fooling everyone by acting dumb, but if you were, you were definitely a professional actor.

The first question he had when seeing you was, why the heck was your skin (s/c)? He never saw a skin disease with such drastic consequences. He noticed your hair also was weirdly coloured. He heard of those hair dyes that existed, but never people dyed their hair in such an unnatural colour.

Moreover, countryhumans had definitely forbidden people to dye their hair unless it was black or gray, their natural hair colour in other words. They didn't want anyone to be standing out after all.

Then, there was the conditon in which he met you. If you were sick, why were you out of the trenches? Your clothes also looked strange, he knew that in those times of war, people just dressed with whatever they could find, but your clothes didn't look like pieces of fabric stitched up together, they looked intact.

Maybe it was just another weird fashion trend from the capital. Those rich people... Don't they have anything else to do with this war happening instead of trying to be 'creative' with random pieces of fabric?

He was honestly starting to think that you were some kind of Creature of Frankenstein rip-off (Berthold enjoyed reading those Gothic novels from decades ago which he spends so much money on). Yes, you weren't definitely human like him.

You were more expressive, more carefree, more interesting, more captivating, more ethereal, more beautiful, more- Berthold caught himself trailing off and he frowned, looking down at the worn out notebook he was writing on.

He sighs, leaning his head back onto the wall of the trench. It was so empty without you. And now other soldiers were avoiding him like the plague. Just like they were avoiding Christoph. People were already considering the poor man as gone as he was constantly rambling in his mattress about an angel he saw in the field.

It's been a few days since Berthold had met you and saw you disappear the same day. Since then, he was often at the bedside of this young soldier. Christoph was a young man in his twenties with light gray hair, compared to Berthold's that was a bit darker.

But just like Berthold, Christoph had suddenly changed and grown more lively since he had woken up from the state of unconsciousness he was in due to being severely injured on the battlefield. People say that it's a miracle he's still alive and that his body healed so quickly.

Now he was an outcast due to his strange lively behaviour and his sudden healing considered an abnormality. And so, as an outcast himself, Berthold had come to stay at his bedside for a few days and the two young soldiers had bonded together, realising their lives had suddenly both changed at the meeting of a very strange and ethereal figure...

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-"(Y/N)!" (B/F/N) slammed your bedroom door open, making you scream and fall down from your chair. You then glared at them now that you were on the ground, holding onto the chair, your hair was messy because of the fall.

-"What the heck are you doing in my house?" You asked once that you registered what happened.

-"Your parents let me in." They simply said, making you huff as you stand up and slump down on your seat. It's the cost of having a best friend, they can infiltrate your home whenever they want.

-"Still obsessed with those drawings? You know that you should seriously study for the upcoming exams." (B/F/N) pointed out, while looking at your hands holding your precious sketchbook, almost protectively. You scoff and roll your eyes.

-"The exams are just a few days ahead, (B/F/N), of course I've already studied. I don't want my mother to kill me." You replied before glancing at the page you had just closed.

You had previously realised that the people you had met in your dreams were indeed countryhumans citizens -or more like the way you draw them, since they're fictional- but, they also were the perfect replica of your sketches in your sketchbook. Unconsciously, your brain had memorized those little drafts and had brought them to life in your dreams. Sweet, you supposed.

The day that followed your «I-almost-died» morning, you had told everything that happened to (B/F/N). You didn't know if it was a good idea or not, for some reason... But whatever! They're just dreams. Just like (B/F/N) sometimes tells you about the sequel of the chasing Fluttershy. Their reaction as following :

«Wait, you actually interacted like in real life? That's so cool! I wish I could do that. Just don't die for real, or I'll be sad.»

Thank you (B/F/N).

So, you had used that day off to relax, not with sleep, but more like eating and drinking in front of a film, since it seemed your nights didn't give you an ounce of energy. You theorised that your dreams were so lucid that everything you did in your dreams also affected your real life energy.

And like (B/F/N) just said, exams are coming soon and you'd prefer not to fall asleep on the exam paper.

-"Heh, sorry I don't really have snacks left to welcome you." You told them as you looked up at them. They huffed, hands on their sides.

-"You think I'm here just for the food?" They asked with a bewildered look.

-"Kinda?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. They sighed.

-"Wrong! It's the second main reason. The first is just to check on you." They told you with a grin, making you smile a little.

-"Well, I'm sorry but I don't have squares on my skin." You joked. They looked at you, confused.

-"What?" You chuckled awkwardly and looked away, feeling your cheeks getting warmer in embarrassment.

-"Well you know... Like the chess board... check on you, check mate..." You mumbles. The silence following was palpable and more than awkward. (B/F/N) looked at you as if you had grown three heads.

-"Hey, I'm the one who's supposed to make horrible jokes." They spoke in such a serious voice that made it seem like you really hurt them by taking their role. You laughed.

-"Well, I can't help to be jealous of such a glorious position now can I?" You played along. They puffed up their chest proudly.

-"Indeed! I fathom your jealousy fellow human, but I can't just bring myself to give you my role!" They said with exaggerated formalities. You were smiling a bit mindlessly to their antics but for some reasons, the mention of unchanging roles stirred something in you.

-"Right...we can't change the part we're obligated to play, can we?" (B/F/N) noticed your change of tone and relaxed their posture, smile fading as they become more serious, too.

-"Yes... We can't change what we were made to be." You hum, furrowing your eyebrows. You looked up at your best friend and formed a small lips upon your lips.

-"What do you think our roles are?" You asked them, trying to light up the mood but they fell silent, thinking through it seriously. They just chuckled at the end.

-"... I don't know. I guess I'll just stick with the sidekick part... Like I'll always be."

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'A sidekick, uh...' You thought groggily in your mind, as you drowsily opened your eyes and sat up from the rough plank which you were laying on. It's been a little while since you had fallen asleep and got transported in the same weird 'dream world' or whatever. Obviously frightening Berthold (again) along the way, since you've just appeared right next to him while he was resting.

But, after recovering from the shock, you two talked like normal and you realised in this dream reality, a few days had passed, while your last encounter with Berthold just happened the night before in your perspective. So confusing.

Now, where were you? Ah, yes, the plank. Well, when Berthold saw how exhausted you looked (it was starting to seriously show), he generously offered you the most comfortable 'bed' he could find in the trenches, which revealed itself to be a wooden plank with plenty of straw on top of it in the hope to make it more comfortable.

It was uncomfortable. The straw and the plank were muddy, the straw had pierced open the sack of linen that contained it at some places, making it feel like plenty of small needles kept sticking in your skin. Yet you never complained.

Firstly, because it was extremely nice of Berthold to put an effort to make you comfortable, and secondly because you knew that right now, you had the most luxurious bedding in the whole trenches.
Most soldiers were just curled up in the mud against a wall of the trenches and were trying to sleep, since most of the beds have been broken and their planks used to fix the trenches.

-"Slept well?" Berthold's voice resonated in the dead silence of the trenches. You looked at your side, the familiar soldier was sitting on the ground, legs crossed, his uniform as dirty with mud as it could get. Berthold didn't even bother to clean it, saying that it was useful for disguise. You couldn't argue with it. When crouching down on the ground he could easily mimic a puddle of mud...or a pile of sh-

-"The best I could, I think..." You sighed as you rubbed your face, trying not to think about the fact that you literally slept while sleeping. What if you had a lucid dream while already lucid dreaming? Would it be an endless cycle? Would you be stuck with sleeping forever? You remembered sometimes it was your wish back in highschool but right now it didn't sound as pleasant.

Berthold kept observing you for a moment before he looked back down at the little book in his hands and continued writing in it. A diary, you figured. You averted your gaze, trying to lift your spirit and not to think about all those diaries that were found in dead soldiers' pockets in real life.

-"So... Nothing new since I last appeared?" You asked him. He paused and fixed his helmet that was falling down before responding quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed.

-"Well, not really. I made a 'friend'." He avoided your gaze, like a child to his mother. You sniggered and turned to face him, getting off the plank along the way.

-"A friend uh? Why are you so embarrassed to say it like that?" You asked, amused. You would have thought he would have said it in a more serious way considering the war he was actually in. You were happy for him however, since he has informed you of the exclusion he had to face because of you. You didn't want to bring him any more trouble.

-"Because it is embarrassing !" Berthold huffed, going back to scribbling roughly on his diary. He at last told you he was just quoting what his new friend wanted to say, and that he didn't actually think of such a childish thing as simple as a friendship between them two, and more like fellow soldiers.'Such a tsundere', you thought.

After a few more minutes of bickering, you had finally decided to go see that 'Christoph' guy. It was your dream after all, you could do anything you want, and you were curious at how many realistic characters can your dreams make. At first Berthold was reluctant but then he decided that maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea and led you through the trenches to the infirmary.

While passing through the trenches, you couldn't help but shiver. No matter how many times you were beholding this sight, you were still as disgusted as the first day. Although you now got used to the mud -even though sometimes it swallowed your whole ankle- you couldn't keep a straight face at the smell and the gory details of anything else. The atmosphere was as gloomy and ghastly as ever.

You stopped at a location of the trench which was fully dug into the dirt, like everything else, but here they had kept the slightest roof. Muddy wooden planks were put all over the place to support the ceiling of this tiny handmade cave. A curtain was extended at the entry, to serve as a door. A poorly painted red medical cross was on one of the entry's wooden pylones.

Berthold gestured you to wait outside before he perked his head through the curtain and spoke a few hushed words you couldn't hear, another whispered voice responded. It went on for a few seconds before Berthold stood straight again and stepped back. He looked at you with pursued lips and awkwardly ushered you inside with a gesture of his arm towards the curtain. You glanced at him before slowly entering the infirmary, not knowing why you felt so nervous about meeting just one person..

When you walked through the curtains, your eyes had to squint in the sudden darkness compared to outside. The air was heavy with a feeling of sickness and death. You didn't want to know how many soldiers had stayed here only to die shortly after. Only a few straw mattresses laid around the little shed, about five and awfully close to eachother. Fortunately only one of them was occupied, making you hope he'd recover more easily. A small candle set on a wooden plank was the only source of light.

You awkwardly stood there while the injured man kept staring at you. You looked behind you, Berthold had pulled back the curtain yet he didn't enter. He was supposed to introduce you to eachother! Now it's just embarrassing.

-"So, you're Christoph right?" You asked, trying to break the silence. However Christoph kept silent, looking at you wide-eyed in full bewilderment, like an adult meeting the actual Santa Clause after years of pretending to be him to their children. (Again don't ask why I specifically thought of that).

You took this time to observe him a little. He was oddly familiar and his injuries... Your eyes softened, was this the soldier from your first dream? You were glad he survived. Your shoulders slumped down a little, as if a burden you didn't know you carried had been lifted off them.

Christoph's features were a bit more delicate than Berthold's. You didn't know if it was because he was sick and so, vulnerable, but he also seemed slightly younger than him, making you feel bad at how young he must be yet has to go through this horrible war. Overall his face looked tired, the recovery of his injuries having a toll on him.

Yet the part of him that seemed completely fine was the everlasting flag mark on his cheek. It made sense. After all, even if he died, he was still bound to his country and belonged to it.

-"You're real..." The sound of his voice made you look up at him. He still seemed shocked, and was clutching onto the piece of rough fabric he had for cover tightly.

-"I thought I was going insane... Everyone kept telling me I was." His voice quivered and he looked at you with such fascination -almost adoration- that it made you uncomfortable. The good thing was that Berthold entered soon after you so you weren't alone in this.

"Uhm..." You tailed off awkwardly. How were you supposed to proceed in this situation? Fortunately Berthold spoke up to do the introductions.

-"Alright, so... Christoph meet (Y/N), (Y/N), meet Christoph." He gestured to both of you in order. Christoph blinked and he looked at you a bit more sanely. Maybe he realised that outside your unusual appearance, you seemed to be normal.

-"Oh." The young man simply said, a bit embarrassed by his former distracted state, he was almost ready to rant out his life like a confession in a church. You snorted a bit at his natural response. Yeah, now that everyone was casual you were more comfortable instead of being looked over like a strange exhibition in a zoo.

From this point, you, Berthold and Christoph were just talking about anything and everything. It was a comfortable conversation, even if you sometimes caught Christoph glancing at you in admiration. For some reason you instinctively knew that you'd have trouble making him believe that you really weren't an angel.

Your appearance fascinated him. When first noticing you didn't have a flag mark on your cheek, Berthold had felt a strong dreadful and nauseous feeling. It was inhuman, unnatural in this world not to have one. But Christoph however, since he already had contact with you unconsciously, he had felt instead amazement. Maybe even awe. You weren't bounded to any country, to any Earthly power. You were free, much more than any bird or any living creature ever created.

Moreover, Christoph was convinced that it was thanks to you that he healed so fast. That day when he got injured, he had felt his body becoming cold and his energy slipping but then he had heard a gentle voice and a warm touch, and his body then regained his warmth and he felt more alive than ever. He wasn't just a German Soldier, he was Christoph. For the first time he has felt his binds to his countryhuman weakening.

In the meantime, you...felt good. It was an odd feeling, to be in a dream yet having interactions so realistic like real life. Well, when ignoring that the people you talked to had grey skin. You never realised how unsettling it'd be to see grey as a skin colour. The fact it seemed so natural on them...brr.. Anyway, you stopped thinking about it because it sounded kind of racist in your head.

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This went on for a few more days, you kept hanging out with Christoph and Berthold every time you fell asleep. They helped to lift your spirit up, since even though you never appeared when a fight was happening, the whole atmosphere was traumatising.

Soon you met other soldiers, surprisingly they didn't seem as lifeless the more you spent time with them. Some are quite bitter and grumpy, yes, but at least they're not emotionless robots. They also had the same extreme reaction as Berthold when he realised you didn't have a flag mark on your cheek.

It was really essential for them, something all humans shared. Not having one, it was like seeing someone casually walking around without his head. It was unnatural, uncomfortable or even repulsive. Fortunately the more they spent time with you, the more they realised you were obviously not some kind of demon sent to kill them.

Meanwhile in the daytime... It was harder. In class you kept drifting off, you kept having mood swings, one second you wanted to throw a chair and the second curl up and cry. In three words, you were exhausted. And it didn't help the exams were well... tomorrow. Yeah...

-BEEP- -BEEP- -BEEP-

Scratch that, they're today! You almost fell out of your bed by how quickly you tried to get out of your bed. Why did the night had to go that fast?! You breathed in and out in front of your mirror. Alright (Y/N), don't stress, you studied for this. You fixed your hair with your hand even though you were gonna ruin it in the shower a few minutes later, and walked down the stairs.

The exams were starting a bit later than the usual school schedule so you had slept a bit more. Unfortunately it means that as you prepared, your parents had already went to work and so couldn't cheer you up, well, more than they did yesterday. You however smiled when taking your breakfast as you noticed a little sticking note on the table where was written 'Good luck darling! See you tonight'.

You sniggered, and childishly wrote at the bottom of the note. 'Thanks! See you soon' with a little smiley face, as if they could hear the reply back in their workplace. When seeing what time it was, you quickly took your bag and rushed to get out of the door, close it, and almost ran to the bus stop.

Not knowing that, in contrast to what you wrote, you weren't going to be back soon.