First Dream
Warnings: None. (Except possibly Spoilers?)
Dream Effect: Extreme attachment to the first person in the dream, and frustration.
There is a tall man wearing a black yukata, seated on a pale tatami mat, hair pinned up in the traditional style. He sits with a proud and perfect posture, but the look on his face is faraway and worried. These are the details that come into focus first.
"Kondou-san, why do you look like you've eaten a lemon?"
It's Souji's own voice, but much, much younger. The exact same high-pitched notes and bratty tone that he'd had at age eleven. Despite the way he'd asked the question, concern colored the entire moment. He felt as nervous as Kondou looked.
The man; Kondou; looks up and gives a smile that is obviously forced. He answers, "Everything I worked so hard for is gone now."
Suddenly, more noticeable than his expression or his posture is his lack of color. He is white, and the color is thin. Translucent, almost. And becoming more so by the moment.
"It isn't gone yet, not as long as you're here!" He hears his own childish voice insist again, pressing.
Kondou chuckles. "I'm sorry, Souji-kun. That just isn't possible."
"Of course it is! We won't give up. I won't let anyone take you from us! I'll protect you, Kondou-san."
The man in black winks, but says nothing. Suddenly, there's a hand on Souji's shoulder. Shocked, he turns and stares up at the stranger. His face is blurred, dark. But he says lightly, "You can't protect Kondou anymore, Okita-san. He's already gone."
Souji turns quickly. Sitting where Kondou once had been was now only a pile of black fabric.
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[Souji would sit up in bed immediately after that, in a cold sweat. Sighing, he rubbed at his temple a little bit and curse under his breath. Stupid Saitou; getting into his head like that, with his strange speech about what the future would bring. He didn't want to hear it. He's experiences enough of the 'future' of his world in the last month, thanks. The Roaring Twenties could bite him. And so could these bad dreams.]
Dream Effect: Extreme attachment to the first person in the dream, and frustration.
There is a tall man wearing a black yukata, seated on a pale tatami mat, hair pinned up in the traditional style. He sits with a proud and perfect posture, but the look on his face is faraway and worried. These are the details that come into focus first.
"Kondou-san, why do you look like you've eaten a lemon?"
It's Souji's own voice, but much, much younger. The exact same high-pitched notes and bratty tone that he'd had at age eleven. Despite the way he'd asked the question, concern colored the entire moment. He felt as nervous as Kondou looked.
The man; Kondou; looks up and gives a smile that is obviously forced. He answers, "Everything I worked so hard for is gone now."
Suddenly, more noticeable than his expression or his posture is his lack of color. He is white, and the color is thin. Translucent, almost. And becoming more so by the moment.
"It isn't gone yet, not as long as you're here!" He hears his own childish voice insist again, pressing.
Kondou chuckles. "I'm sorry, Souji-kun. That just isn't possible."
"Of course it is! We won't give up. I won't let anyone take you from us! I'll protect you, Kondou-san."
The man in black winks, but says nothing. Suddenly, there's a hand on Souji's shoulder. Shocked, he turns and stares up at the stranger. His face is blurred, dark. But he says lightly, "You can't protect Kondou anymore, Okita-san. He's already gone."
Souji turns quickly. Sitting where Kondou once had been was now only a pile of black fabric.
------------------------------
[Souji would sit up in bed immediately after that, in a cold sweat. Sighing, he rubbed at his temple a little bit and curse under his breath. Stupid Saitou; getting into his head like that, with his strange speech about what the future would bring. He didn't want to hear it. He's experiences enough of the 'future' of his world in the last month, thanks. The Roaring Twenties could bite him. And so could these bad dreams.]