Tenth Dream
Warnings:Violence, death, and speculation on certain canon events.
Dream Effects: [Optional] Pain, both mental and physical. A certain rising sense of dread, coupled with a sense of hatred and resignation. Later, there’s a rising apathy and disgust.
[Fire. There’s fire around him, and Naoya coughs a little. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. There’s smoke in his eyes and they water, and he tries to push himself off the ground only for a screaming pain to shoot through his shoulder. Broken, he dimly realizes, but he finally manages to open his eyes.
What had hit the car? He’d never seen what it was, but as he opens his eyes, he comes to the horrifying realization that his mother had shielded him. She’s still warm, holding him close, and from this angle he can see the tree branch that had ripped through her side, dripping with blood. They’d been pushed right off the freeway…
Naoya struggles a little, trying to see-it was irrational, but he wanted to see-
“…Please…live…” He froze, feeling his mother’s blood drip down his cheek. Again. Again. It was always the same.
The scene changes some, to a funeral. Naoya is dressed formally, but he’s still heavily bandaged from the accident, and he’s clearly no more than six or seven years old.
And people are whispering.
‘What a cold child, he doesn’t even cry…’
‘He doesn’t make any expression at all! It’s creepy!’
‘He’s an ill-omened child…no good from that one.’
He could hear them. It didn’t matter. They could talk all they liked, but he…His throat tightened, as the funeral procession. Return them to God’s hands? He’d been the one who’d taken them from him. Over and over and over…it was always the same thing. How disgusting.
This would be the last time.]
[Naoya has sat up, hand to his forehead. That’s right…it was today. He rubs his shoulder a little, and sighs.]
…Tch. [He reaches over and shuts off the dreamberry.]
Dream Effects: [Optional] Pain, both mental and physical. A certain rising sense of dread, coupled with a sense of hatred and resignation. Later, there’s a rising apathy and disgust.
[Fire. There’s fire around him, and Naoya coughs a little. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. There’s smoke in his eyes and they water, and he tries to push himself off the ground only for a screaming pain to shoot through his shoulder. Broken, he dimly realizes, but he finally manages to open his eyes.
What had hit the car? He’d never seen what it was, but as he opens his eyes, he comes to the horrifying realization that his mother had shielded him. She’s still warm, holding him close, and from this angle he can see the tree branch that had ripped through her side, dripping with blood. They’d been pushed right off the freeway…
Naoya struggles a little, trying to see-it was irrational, but he wanted to see-
“…Please…live…” He froze, feeling his mother’s blood drip down his cheek. Again. Again. It was always the same.
The scene changes some, to a funeral. Naoya is dressed formally, but he’s still heavily bandaged from the accident, and he’s clearly no more than six or seven years old.
And people are whispering.
‘What a cold child, he doesn’t even cry…’
‘He doesn’t make any expression at all! It’s creepy!’
‘He’s an ill-omened child…no good from that one.’
He could hear them. It didn’t matter. They could talk all they liked, but he…His throat tightened, as the funeral procession. Return them to God’s hands? He’d been the one who’d taken them from him. Over and over and over…it was always the same thing. How disgusting.
This would be the last time.]
[Naoya has sat up, hand to his forehead. That’s right…it was today. He rubs his shoulder a little, and sighs.]
…Tch. [He reaches over and shuts off the dreamberry.]