Takumi planned a picnic, today.
Takumi felt so cold, today.
A burning, freezing craving. He needed a heat only a fading illusion could provide.
(Spoilers for Casual Route).
Takumi’s universe shivered, convulsed, yet stayed in place all the same. The bloodied walls of the academy wavered into what they should have been as Takumi stumbled through the hallway in a daze.
Everything was wrong. He needed to make it to the courtyard for a picnic with his friends. They’d been planning it for so long, it’d be a shame if it got canceled because Takumi couldn’t
keep it together for a little longer, letting the dream slip away, letting their feeble existences run through his fingers like sand, grasping and clinging but it never ever stays, it has to leave, he has to let go
He rubbed his eyes. The universe righted itself, though the cold, numb feeling in his body spread as he stumbled forward. Everything fixed—except for himself.
That’d be fine. Takumi just needed to make it to the party. When he stumbled into the courtyard
and saw blood dripping every which way, the carcasses of invaders and forgotten carnage, felt the heat seeping from his body further and further deep, he’d earned survival in the dream but only for a fleeting moment before it all left him, the false sky cracked leaving everything in darkness, the bodies he left behind their hopes their dreams! He promised to protect her! What a fool he’d been to
“Looks like I got here early,” Takumi mumbled to himself, balanced against the wall before his newest dizzy spell left him. Empty as usual, the courtyard sang a breezy melody, the artificial currents swishing through the bars of
a dark, empty
Eito’s cage. The man in question sat, cross-legged as always, at the edge, peering off into the distance at—who else?
“Ah, Takumi. You’re here. Where is everyone?”
“Why do you care?” Takumi said as he cared enough to approach Eito anyway. “It’s none of your business. You’re not part of our plans.”
Because you left—everyone did, cut up dried and bled through, withered corpses and screams and hands reaching out to me, please, Takumi, wake up, wake up
“Are you half asleep?” Eito said, smiling. “If you’re going to make plans here, of course I’d be a part of them. Where else would I be? Besides…it’s not as if any of your other ‘friends’ bothered to show up.”
“We’re not friends,” Takumi snapped. Eito’s grin only grew wider.
“Right, we’re something special. Friends isn’t a good enough word to contain us.”
Takumi rolled his eyes, and went to sit next to Eito’s cage, head leaned against the bars. “Okay. Sure.”
The thought crossed his mind, tied Takumi’s brain up in a haze of want and confusion. Sitting like this, he all but asked for Eito to reach over and smash his head against the bars. For revenge, for something to blame
but Eito had long since left this rotting academy behind. With the baby left for dead, he probably found refuge in some corner of this dying planet, away from the monsters and imperfections and disgusting disgusting disgusting
But Eito looked at him with oddly warm eyes, watching, waiting. Takumi picked his head back up.
“I’m not letting you join us,” Takumi reminded him.
Eito’s mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape. “I wasn’t about to argue, Takumi. But you do seem bored. Is it because all your friends stood you up?”
“They didn’t—they’ll be here, soon.”
Takumi’s head spun. He held it and doubled over, while Eito lowered his head to Takumi’s level, armed with the comforting, wide smile he always had.
“Or will they? But if you’re so sure, we can wait.”
“Can you just…be quiet, already?”
Eito frowned. “I wish I could.”
As if he had no will of his own. The brief wave of unease overtaking Takumi faded as he straighted himself once more, staring at the door to Eito’s cage. Something struck him as odd. As if some part of the set disappeared between switching stages, and the backstage crew scrambled to slip it back into place before the audience noticed and destroyed the illusion all together.
Maybe
it was the emptiness, the long abandoned strewn sheets, the cold
“Hey!”
Takumi jumped up, examining the door before someone pushed it open—Eito, who stayed inside the cage despite the door’s lock having vanished. Too quick for defensive maneuvers, he grabbed Takumi and yanked him inside before shutting the door once more. The strength left Takumi’s legs as he collapsed over Eito, so warm and full of life Takumi shivered from what he stole from the other man.
“You finally realized?” Eito said, smiling, brimming with heat behind his eyes as he held Takumi close. “You took the lock off weeks ago. I thought you would’ve remembered.”
“What—no, I didn’t, why would I…?” Takumi mumbled. He wanted to resist—he needed to, he had to, he couldn’t let the others see…no, that wasn’t it! Eito escaped!
But he hadn’t.
And neither had Takumi.
Takumi wriggled around and pinned Eito to the floor, and he tasted the waves of wamrth radiating from Eito’s heavy, muscular body.
“We lived here,” Eito said, “together. You chose to stay, and I left. But you, no matter how hard you tried, you needed me here. Otherwise, there’d be no point in any of this.”
“No…point in what?”
No point in the longing, no point in reaching for someone nonexistent, no point in protecting, in living, in breathing and wanting and reaching, she died and it’s your fault, they all died and it’s all your fault
“In this world,” Eito said, “it’s just you and me now. They’ve all left, already.”
Takumi swallowed, a lump still nestled in his throat. “They’ll be here soon. We were gonna have a picnic to celebrate before V’ehxness…”
Before
A blade pierced flesh and left a familiar corpse behind, her corpse, how could you forget, how could you dare to forget
the final fight. They needed to keep their morale up. They needed to have a party. And then tomorrow—
Tomorrow…
Eito reached up, and put a hand over Takumi’s mouth.
“And then what?” When Takumi gurgled out an answer, Eito threaded his fingers into the wet, empty space. “Shhhh. Your answer won’t change anything, right? They’re already gone. There’s nothing you can do about that.”
He winked. “There’s something else you can’t change. The fact you’re dying, now, bleeding all that disgusting blood onto my newly washed jacket.”
A glob of red, dripping blood, along with an unidentifiable slab of something sloshed onto Eito, Takumi’s arms went limp, and he collapsed. Eito’s fingers coiled around Takumi’s tongue.
“You’ve lost them all,” he said, “Team Leader. But you still have me—this imaginary version of me, anyways. All I can do is let you die in peace while reminding you of all your disgusting failures. A fitting punishment, isn’t it?”
Takumi said nothing—with Eito holding the one method of communication he had, what else could he do?
Eito clicked his own tongue in disappointment, before fishing through his pockets with his free hand—
The glint of silver.
The sharp blades.
He brought the scissors to Takumi’s tongue, and with a quick snip, cut it off. Takumi expected to choke on his own blood, but—nothing so merciful happened.
Takumi lost his ability to speak, yet it seemed like nothing changed at all. Eito discarded the tongue with a look of disgust before he melted back into that disturbing warmth and ran a hand through Takumi’s hair.
“If you’re not going to leave,” Eito said, “you won’t need that anymore. You’re not planning on doing anything else, right? You can’t leave the dream—you can’t leave comfort behind. You can’t leave me behind, not even after traveling through time.”
Takumi felt a shiver travel through his body as a pressure oozed out of him, filling him with something so terribly pleasant.
“You don’t need those, either,” Eito said, running his hands across Takumi’s arms, then his legs, up to his torso, as he lost feeling in each of those limbs upon Eito’s contact. Once he finished his little ritual, he assumed a proper sitting position and pulled Takumi up so his head rested against Eito’s shoulder, cradled like something to be protected.
“You don’t need any of that.
“You’re not going to leave.
“You’re not going to do anything.
“You’re not even…”
living, anymore, within this dead quiet courtyard, a lone boy cradled within the cage and bars alike, shivering and bleeding and losing warmth
Takumi craved every drop of heat Eito gave him. He had to protect Eito, even as he lost his words, lost his will, lost his life.
He had to protect her—him, whatever looked good enough to fit the part.
He had to…
Dream, at least.
Dream of dark, dream of dreaming dregs.
Even if Takumi became cold.
He’d take this warmth, drink it selfishly. Eito threaded his fingers through Takumi’s hair, sneering, loving, controlling, freeing, faking.
All for…
What?
All for
All for
All
For