1st Dream; Week 20, Day 3 [Missed Connection]
WARNING: R for blood and gore
You are curled up on your side, staring at the sheet that bisects your dorm room. You think of climbing out of bed, pushing that curtain aside to stare at the boy asleep on the other side of it. But it’s the middle of the night, and if you wake him now, he will surely know everything you want to hide, and you will have to kill him. (Kill him again?)
Your limbs feel heavy with sleep. Can’t move them even with effort, and you're sleepy. It's so not worth it. That’s when you feel it. A tickle of tiny legs on your neck. Spiders.
Clay spiders, creeping over you.
And you remember the smell of blood and firecrackers. Iruka-sensei lost one arm, then the other. Then his head blew right open and a bit of his skull cut your cheek.
And you remember, you were held fast by a giant clay centipede, high over the village. There was a boy who didn’t agree with your perspective on art.
And you remember facing him without flinching, knowing you were going to die.
And you remember thinking you’d thrown away thirteen years of your life. You tried to imagine Takumi’s smiling face, a happy thought before you died. Takumi, Takumi. You were going to be with him, finally. That aching empty place in your heart was filled with explosions for one bright, scary moment. Then there is nothing, nothing, nothing.
You are lying on the beach. It is neither day nor night. The sky is like a TV screen full of static, a white noise pattern, ever moving. Maybe it’s a broken projection screen.
There’s a music box like melody playing in the distance. It pulls at your veins until you sit up. Your sarashi, bound too tightly and damp from the sand, burns and pinches as you sit up.
A little toad hops on your arm, all the way up to your shoulder. It’s no bigger than your palm, but it’s heavy - in fact, it’s a robot, gleaming metal and full of points and strange seams, looking like something that comes out of a model kit. Its eyes flicker and glow red. It speaks right into your heart with its deep, metallic, amphibious voice.
Do you remember our pact?
Your own voice is surprising in its smallness, but you do, at least, convey your own anger and determination. You snatch the mechanical toad off your shoulder, staring it right in the face. Its metal skin is warm. You can feel it breathing. “I don’t want to fight any more. It’s pointless. I’m dead. There’s no reason.”
When the toad speaks again, it sounds much younger. A boy your age, but wicked. It sounds like Nagi. Akira-chan, you made a promise! Now it’s time to help. Time to join the festivities!
“No, no!”
You grip the metal toad with both hands. You open your mouth and cram it inside. It tastes more like blood than metal, and it wiggles in your mouth like a very living thing, but you swallow it down whole.
“Now you’re part of me forever, but you can’t escape!” The thing wiggles, alive, inside of you, and then stills.
The music is gone. There’s a telephone ringing somewhere in the distance. You know whoever calling is in trouble, needs your help desperately. You are that person’s only hope, in fact. It might even be Takumi on the other line.
But there is nothing but the static-flickering sky and a stretch of dull brown sand and a gently rippling silver sea.
The phone is ringing.
“Could someone please get that?”
It’s still ringing. You run up and down the coast and find nothing.
“Hey, hey! Could someone please get that?” Even in such a vast-yet-enclosed space, your voice sounds muted, muffled.
Again and again it rings. You dig in the sand with your bare hands, trying not to panic.
“Someone answer it! Answer the damned phone!”
No matter where (ring!) you look, you’ll never (ring!) find it, and each moment you (ring!) waste looking brings the person on the other (ring!) end closer to a painful and violent death. Ring, ring, ring. The ringing is almost petulant. Mocking you.
“Answer the phone, answer the phone, someone, anyone, answer the goddamned--”
--Phone! [Akira shouts and sits up all at once. Realizing what’s just happened, he dives under his pillow, covering his head.] Agh! There aren’t even phones here!
You are curled up on your side, staring at the sheet that bisects your dorm room. You think of climbing out of bed, pushing that curtain aside to stare at the boy asleep on the other side of it. But it’s the middle of the night, and if you wake him now, he will surely know everything you want to hide, and you will have to kill him. (Kill him again?)
Your limbs feel heavy with sleep. Can’t move them even with effort, and you're sleepy. It's so not worth it. That’s when you feel it. A tickle of tiny legs on your neck. Spiders.
Clay spiders, creeping over you.
And you remember the smell of blood and firecrackers. Iruka-sensei lost one arm, then the other. Then his head blew right open and a bit of his skull cut your cheek.
And you remember, you were held fast by a giant clay centipede, high over the village. There was a boy who didn’t agree with your perspective on art.
And you remember facing him without flinching, knowing you were going to die.
And you remember thinking you’d thrown away thirteen years of your life. You tried to imagine Takumi’s smiling face, a happy thought before you died. Takumi, Takumi. You were going to be with him, finally. That aching empty place in your heart was filled with explosions for one bright, scary moment. Then there is nothing, nothing, nothing.
You are lying on the beach. It is neither day nor night. The sky is like a TV screen full of static, a white noise pattern, ever moving. Maybe it’s a broken projection screen.
There’s a music box like melody playing in the distance. It pulls at your veins until you sit up. Your sarashi, bound too tightly and damp from the sand, burns and pinches as you sit up.
A little toad hops on your arm, all the way up to your shoulder. It’s no bigger than your palm, but it’s heavy - in fact, it’s a robot, gleaming metal and full of points and strange seams, looking like something that comes out of a model kit. Its eyes flicker and glow red. It speaks right into your heart with its deep, metallic, amphibious voice.
Do you remember our pact?
Your own voice is surprising in its smallness, but you do, at least, convey your own anger and determination. You snatch the mechanical toad off your shoulder, staring it right in the face. Its metal skin is warm. You can feel it breathing. “I don’t want to fight any more. It’s pointless. I’m dead. There’s no reason.”
When the toad speaks again, it sounds much younger. A boy your age, but wicked. It sounds like Nagi. Akira-chan, you made a promise! Now it’s time to help. Time to join the festivities!
“No, no!”
You grip the metal toad with both hands. You open your mouth and cram it inside. It tastes more like blood than metal, and it wiggles in your mouth like a very living thing, but you swallow it down whole.
“Now you’re part of me forever, but you can’t escape!” The thing wiggles, alive, inside of you, and then stills.
The music is gone. There’s a telephone ringing somewhere in the distance. You know whoever calling is in trouble, needs your help desperately. You are that person’s only hope, in fact. It might even be Takumi on the other line.
But there is nothing but the static-flickering sky and a stretch of dull brown sand and a gently rippling silver sea.
The phone is ringing.
“Could someone please get that?”
It’s still ringing. You run up and down the coast and find nothing.
“Hey, hey! Could someone please get that?” Even in such a vast-yet-enclosed space, your voice sounds muted, muffled.
Again and again it rings. You dig in the sand with your bare hands, trying not to panic.
“Someone answer it! Answer the damned phone!”
No matter where (ring!) you look, you’ll never (ring!) find it, and each moment you (ring!) waste looking brings the person on the other (ring!) end closer to a painful and violent death. Ring, ring, ring. The ringing is almost petulant. Mocking you.
“Answer the phone, answer the phone, someone, anyone, answer the goddamned--”
--Phone! [Akira shouts and sits up all at once. Realizing what’s just happened, he dives under his pillow, covering his head.] Agh! There aren’t even phones here!