[SC] Short fics go here.
On occasion, when he’s all alone in his bed at night in the apartment that he shares with Sohki, Count D stares up at the ceiling, waiting for a restless sleep that sometimes doesn’t come for hours. The longer he stays in Death City, the shorter the wait for sleep becomes until he can fall asleep quickly and easily most nights. Those nights are blissful and waking in the morning for early training is never quite the problem it would have been if he had to wake up that early in Tokyo. He gets out of bed and forces himself to training and throws himself into it to forget, because it makes waiting for this war to be over much easier. Learning how to properly wield Sohki is important for their own protection and the protection of the Brew. D doesn’t mind, because when he thinks about it, the benefits outweigh the risks.
Taizuu would tell him he was practicing marginal analysis. D would have kindly told him to shut up.
When he first arrived, however, and perhaps one night out of every week or two, D tosses and turns for hours before finally falling into a restless sleep. Those are the mornings he doesn’t attend morning training because he sleeps right through them. Even if he was awake at five, he would not have the stamina, having just fallen asleep an hour or two before. He lies in bed the whole night, thinking of his own world - his beloved pets, his friends: Mama, Ryo, the ladies at the nail salon, and all the others that come and go each day. D even finds his thoughts drifting to Taizuu on occasion, though they almost never linger too long on him before D forces his mind elsewhere. If he lucky, sleep comes before his mind wanders too far, and thoughts of what he would prefer to be the long and distance past invade his brain.
The memory of California leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth when his thoughts stray that far. D doesn’t mind thinking about Christopher so much; the pain he felt at seeing the boy leave has lessened greatly since the time it happened, leaving with it the memories of a cute and cheerful boy, eager to learn and please and play. Christopher would be - is - a teenager now. He wonders idly how the boy is doing, assures himself that Christopher is fine, and tries to sleep. Sometimes it comes, but when it doesn’t, the frustration brought by hours of not sleeping grows.
It is at this point in his battle with sleep that D usually sighs and rolls over, breathing deeply to clear his mind or gets up and meditates in an attempt to clear his thoughts before the inevitable happens and his thoughts turn to the world’s foulest-minded detective. There is no way to predict who the Brew brings to Death City, and D fears that one day he will be forced to face his past.
He never wants to see Leon again.
Taizuu would tell him he was practicing marginal analysis. D would have kindly told him to shut up.
When he first arrived, however, and perhaps one night out of every week or two, D tosses and turns for hours before finally falling into a restless sleep. Those are the mornings he doesn’t attend morning training because he sleeps right through them. Even if he was awake at five, he would not have the stamina, having just fallen asleep an hour or two before. He lies in bed the whole night, thinking of his own world - his beloved pets, his friends: Mama, Ryo, the ladies at the nail salon, and all the others that come and go each day. D even finds his thoughts drifting to Taizuu on occasion, though they almost never linger too long on him before D forces his mind elsewhere. If he lucky, sleep comes before his mind wanders too far, and thoughts of what he would prefer to be the long and distance past invade his brain.
The memory of California leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth when his thoughts stray that far. D doesn’t mind thinking about Christopher so much; the pain he felt at seeing the boy leave has lessened greatly since the time it happened, leaving with it the memories of a cute and cheerful boy, eager to learn and please and play. Christopher would be - is - a teenager now. He wonders idly how the boy is doing, assures himself that Christopher is fine, and tries to sleep. Sometimes it comes, but when it doesn’t, the frustration brought by hours of not sleeping grows.
It is at this point in his battle with sleep that D usually sighs and rolls over, breathing deeply to clear his mind or gets up and meditates in an attempt to clear his thoughts before the inevitable happens and his thoughts turn to the world’s foulest-minded detective. There is no way to predict who the Brew brings to Death City, and D fears that one day he will be forced to face his past.
He never wants to see Leon again.