In Ringo’s dream, she’s on the subway.
It’s one of those dreams where everything is so ordinary, so close to her everyday life, that when she wakes up she’ll probably not be able to remember whether it was a dream or real.
The little animated figures of Double-H wave and bow from the signs. The featureless walls flash past.
the robotic female voice announces calmly from the loudspeaker. She rests her head against the window.
She’s commuting to school, probably. Or commuting home from school. She’s not sure which. She sighs, and thinks about what she needs to buy from the store on her way home, either now or later.
She’s not sure which. Eggs are on sale today. They’re running low on rice noodles. Some vegetables, too, probably.
She’s not sure what to cook for dinner, and, with a small shrug, decides that she’ll choose based on what type of meat is the cheapest today.
Or was she going to go over to Himari’s today? She reaches into her pocket for her phone.
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