Nightmares - naegami

Chapter 33

TW: m//rder, description of a de//d body, mentions of s//xual assault, mentions of disassociation

It was dark. Very dark. Byakuya stumbled around in the blackness. He fumbled around with a light switch and suddenly light flooded the room. He was outside the bathhouse. It was weirdly cold. He shivered. He didn't want to be here.

Byakuya walked down the hallway, trying to work out what to do. He could feel himself panicking and tried to keep calm incase someone walked past. It was quiet. Too quiet. It felt like he wasn't going anywhere. He just kept walking. And then he saw the bathhouse entrance again. Ugh. He must've taken a wrong turn. He couldn't panic, he'd just keep walking. He needed to stay calm.

There was the bathhouse again. No. Stay calm. He hadn't been here this long, it would be easy to make a wrong turn. This time he'd do it. He kept walking. All he could feel was a faux sense of calm, and the overwhelming fear it was trying to cover up. He walked. He walked. He walked. And he was back to the bathhouse. No. Stop. Don't panic. You've not done anything wrong it's a simple mistake you just keep making the same mistake it's just a simple mistake. No.

Byakuya took a deep breath. Did this mean... he had to go into the bathhouse? He swallowed nervously, and stepped towards the entrance. It was just light enough in the hallway for him to see the curtain that half covered the entrance. Not many people used the bathhouse as an actual bathhouse, so he had no idea what he'd find on the other side of the curtain, and that filled him with an unspeakable amount of anxiety.

He saw his hand shaking in the dark as he reached out. The fabric of the curtain was stiff but not hard to move. He closed his eyes and stepped inside the room.

He almost threw up for the second time that day. Makoto was in the middle of the bathhouse locker room. He was on his back, arms and legs out in a starfish position. The blood from the stab wounds scattered across their torso was pooled a little way around them on the floor. The light in their eyes was gone. Makoto was dead.

Sitting a little way away on a bench, was Kirigiri. The bright pink blood on her clothes was a clear enough indicator that she'd killed him. "What... why would you do this?" Byakuya felt dizzy from adrenaline.

"His fault for trusting me," Kirigiri pulled off her gloves, folding them beside her. "They're the one who came to me, all I had to do-" she pulled out a small knife. "- was strike. His fault."

Byakuya opened his eyes, gasping. Makoto cried out. "Huh? Kuya, are you alright?!" The small boy wrapped his arms around Byakuya's middle, trying to keep the taller boy still. Byakuya couldn't move. Makoto was holding him too still. This some how calmed him down. He swallowed. "Bad dream?" Makoto started slowly stroking Byakuya's back.

Byakuya gathered his thoughts. He was with Makoto, in a bed. Makoto seemed startled, but sleepy. They must've been sleeping. Makoto was alive. It was a dream. He looked around. It was his room. Ah yes, Makoto had come to see him after he'd been in the book room and been... knocked out. But Makoto was safe now. "Do you wanna talk about the dream?" The brunet murmured.

Byakuya thought a moment. He remembered Makoto's body, splayed out on the floor, covered in stab wounds oozing blood, Kirigiri sitting nearby, knife in hand.

"I'd rather not," Byakuya's voice shook a little unintentionally.

"I'll assume that it's something to do with me or your father, and I'll leave it," Makoto replied. They pulled himself tighter to the blond and sighed sleepily. "It's ok, whatever it was wasn't real."

Byakuya wriggled uncomfortably. "You don't know that-"

"It was not real," Makoto repeated sternly. Byakuya opened his mouth to protest again, then shut it. He didn't have the energy to argue the validity of his fears. He glanced up and checked the clock. 2:45am. He tried to relax and let himself sleep again. It felt like he was lying there for hours, twitching his body occasionally to remind himself he was real.