[Naruhodou wasn't kidding when he said he was tired. He stays asleep a little longer, sprawling himself out on the bed, his arm and leg on top of Asougi, his head pressing against his.]
[ Asougi remains curled up next to him, though his sleep appears to be anything but restful. He's expressionless for the most part, saved for his furrowed brow, and the only noises that escape him are soft, nonsensical murmurs as well as the sharp catching of his breath every now and then as he tries to curl up on himself even more, eyes scrunched shut. ]
[The constant movement from his partner beside him slowly nudges him awake. Why can't he stop moving? As the rest of his senses catches up with him, he realizes something was wrong again. He sits up, getting a better look at Asougi. This nightmare was relentless, whatever it was. If this keeps happening, waking him up everytime won't fix the problem, and Asougi isn't going to tell him anything anytime soon.]
. . . [He leans closer to Asougi. What if he could see what he was dreaming? That was the thought that started to surface in his mind. There was some hesitance, this was his best friend he was trying to reach through his thoughts, entering into his privacy. He wouldn't like that at all, but watching his partner struggle helplessly like this...he shakes his head. He can't just keep watching him like this and do nothing.
He gently presses his head against Asougi's, closing his eyes. Would he even be able to do this without waking him up, let alone see anything? Dreams are just thoughts at their core right? So if he just made a normal thought connection, it should work. Asougi might feel a faint throbbing sensation as Naruhodou tries to make a connection with him.]
[ He lets out a soft moan at that, grimacing in his sleep. The connection itself isn't too difficult to make, but even then, he'll only get flashes at best.
The sea — vast, empty, he's empty, empty, bandages dangling from his neck loosely as a reminder of the patchwork that remains. Another glance back to the sea — it's a crimson red, deep, endless. There's something floating in the distance amidst the vast emptiness of the sea, the back of someone — something now, certainly — barely visible to the naked eye. He reaches out a hand and there's another brief flash, of a middle-aged man turning, smiling softly, leaning down and patting at his head, whispering words that he just can't remember, what did he say—
[There was literally no warning the moment he made the connection, he was just suddenly shoved flashes of images. It was extremely disorientating and it took everything to keep himself from getting nauseously sick. There sure was a lot of water in this dream, the sea? Why was it suddenly red? This feeling of emptiness was so overbearing, like the ocean was drowning him. He actually hugs himself outside of the dream.
He looks around, finding another life in this emptiness. Those bandages...was this how he felt during that time? He wanted to call out to Asougi, reach for him, tell him he's right here, but no voice would come out. Instead he witnesses another person appearing in the dream. He didn't recognize the man, but the way he patted Asougi on the head, how desperately Asougi tried to reach for him--] Ah-! [Suddenly he was thrust out of the dream, like someone had yanked him hard with a rope. As Asougi jerks forward, he bumps into Naruhodou's head and he falls backward onto the bed. He remains laying there, stunned and trying to catch his breath. There were chills going up his spine, even the area gets cold.]
[After a moment, his sense start to return and he could feel his head throbbing. He rubs at his head, his breathing starting to normalize. He could now hear his partner at the other end. Slowly but surely, he pulls himself up, crawling back over to him.]
A-Asougi. [It was difficult to breath the closer he got to him. He puts his hands on his face, getting him to look up at him. I'm right here.]
[He stares at him for a long moment before flopping on top of him, wrapping his arms around his friend.] . . .Sorry. [It may or may not been his fault what happened. Either way, he still did something he shouldn't have without Asougi's consent.]
[ He glances over at him suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. ]
What did you . . .
[ His voice trails off and he lets out a sigh, eyes drifting back up to the ceiling. Did it really matter at this point? Maybe that was the sickness talking, though. ]
. . .I- [He grips the fabrics of his clothes, the air feeling uncomfortably humid.] You were having another bad dream and I just wanted to help! So I. . .I saw what you were dreaming.
[He slowly lifts his head to look back at his partner. Fear settles in, worried of what this would do between them. He moves to sit up beside him, hanging his head.]
. . .You were having trouble sleeping again. I didn't think to wake you, because. . .well, it wouldn't change anything. [He folds his hands together.] I thought if I could see what you were dreaming, maybe...maybe I could have made it less scary. [But the dream got a little too personal, and he felt guilty for seeing it. He bows his head.] I'm sorry.
[ If he weren't sick, forehead slick from his fever, he would probably react in anger. He can feel it starting to boil up within him, festering in his chest. But he's so tired and the air around him is chilling over that his only reaction is to pull away from him, eyes narrowing in an obvious display of displeasure. ]
[That small gesture was enough to bring the world down on Naruhodou, that sense of separation. He deserved it, Asougi had every right to be mad at him. So he does nothing, says nothing in retort. He scoots himself toward the edge of the bed instead.]
[ He lays on his side, back to Naruhodou, and closes his eyes. ]
Do whatever you want. ... Isn't that what you've been doing, anyway.
[ A harsh assessment — it would be even harsher if his voice weren't as strained as it was from sickness, and if he wasn't so tired. The cold snap doesn't show any signs of thawing any time soon, either. ]
T-That's, that's not what I was doing! I was just-...! [His shoulders slump, heart aching to see his partner's back to him. This was not the side of him he wanted to be on, but did he have any right to argue back? He moves from the bed, retreating back onto the chair he been on before all of this.]
[ There's a lot he could say in response to that, but he's tired, so tired. His response is a murmur instead, with no real heat behind it — though that's more because he's lacking the energy to really express it in full. ]
[He clenches his hands, but says nothing more. He sounded terrible, and it's probably his fault for making that worse too. He stares at his partner for a long moment, as if expecting something to happen. He shakes his head, looking disheartened. This is pointless, sitting here and waiting isn't going to change anything. He looks to the now dry washcloth that was still on the bed. He reaches to pick it up, deciding to go and soak it again.
He'll come back a few minutes later, a bucket of warm water in one hand with the washcloth hanging from it. He'll settle back on the chair. If he wasn't going to tell him off, then he'll stay here and at least keep an eye on his condition.]
[ Telling Naruhodou off can come when he has more energy. For now, his head hurts too much and he's too tired to really want to expend that much on him. He curls up on himself again, closing his eyes and opting to just ignore him for now, at least until his strength comes back. ]
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At least until the intrusive bad dreams start to kick in. ]
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. . . [He leans closer to Asougi. What if he could see what he was dreaming? That was the thought that started to surface in his mind. There was some hesitance, this was his best friend he was trying to reach through his thoughts, entering into his privacy. He wouldn't like that at all, but watching his partner struggle helplessly like this...he shakes his head. He can't just keep watching him like this and do nothing.
He gently presses his head against Asougi's, closing his eyes. Would he even be able to do this without waking him up, let alone see anything? Dreams are just thoughts at their core right? So if he just made a normal thought connection, it should work. Asougi might feel a faint throbbing sensation as Naruhodou tries to make a connection with him.]
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The sea — vast, empty, he's empty, empty, bandages dangling from his neck loosely as a reminder of the patchwork that remains. Another glance back to the sea — it's a crimson red, deep, endless. There's something floating in the distance amidst the vast emptiness of the sea, the back of someone — something now, certainly — barely visible to the naked eye. He reaches out a hand and there's another brief flash, of a middle-aged man turning, smiling softly, leaning down and patting at his head, whispering words that he just can't remember, what did he say—
Asougi inhales sharply, jerking forward. ]
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He looks around, finding another life in this emptiness. Those bandages...was this how he felt during that time? He wanted to call out to Asougi, reach for him, tell him he's right here, but no voice would come out. Instead he witnesses another person appearing in the dream. He didn't recognize the man, but the way he patted Asougi on the head, how desperately Asougi tried to reach for him--] Ah-! [Suddenly he was thrust out of the dream, like someone had yanked him hard with a rope. As Asougi jerks forward, he bumps into Naruhodou's head and he falls backward onto the bed. He remains laying there, stunned and trying to catch his breath. There were chills going up his spine, even the area gets cold.]
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Ghh . . .
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A-Asougi. [It was difficult to breath the closer he got to him. He puts his hands on his face, getting him to look up at him. I'm right here.]
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. . . Naruhodou.
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What did you . . .
[ His voice trails off and he lets out a sigh, eyes drifting back up to the ceiling. Did it really matter at this point? Maybe that was the sickness talking, though. ]
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. . . why.
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. . .You were having trouble sleeping again. I didn't think to wake you, because. . .well, it wouldn't change anything. [He folds his hands together.] I thought if I could see what you were dreaming, maybe...maybe I could have made it less scary. [But the dream got a little too personal, and he felt guilty for seeing it. He bows his head.] I'm sorry.
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. . .Do you want me to leave?
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Do whatever you want. ... Isn't that what you've been doing, anyway.
[ A harsh assessment — it would be even harsher if his voice weren't as strained as it was from sickness, and if he wasn't so tired. The cold snap doesn't show any signs of thawing any time soon, either. ]
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. . .It was not my intention to hurt you.
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You knew better.
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[ It's a muffled request, but the strain is apparent in his voice. ]
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He'll come back a few minutes later, a bucket of warm water in one hand with the washcloth hanging from it. He'll settle back on the chair. If he wasn't going to tell him off, then he'll stay here and at least keep an eye on his condition.]
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