~~~~
Kotoko was just about done with these boys.
She had taken care of every single one of Masaru's whines without complaint, cleaning puke and changing the blankets and checking on the others EVEN MORE then she already had been because he HAD to know how they were doing every second of every day. For being their brave and strong leader (Something she would never doubt again, he was brave enough to protect them even now and strong enough to fight against everything), he sure was such a whiny little kid when given the chance. She couldn't tell if she was proud of him being able to show such weakness or just annoyed with it all.
Then there was Nagisa, who had the opposite issue, refusing to ask for anything besides a glass of water and constantly trying to make his was over to retrieving a text book. Honestly, any Demon that had labeled Nagisa the pure angel that did no wrong and followed the rules always could eat shit because he was as sneaky as a fox, he just happened to be as quiet as a mouse and that made his as annoying as a parrot. His refusal to request anything made her want to rip her hair out from the sheer lack of doing anything for him when she was supposed to be.
Finally there was Jataro, beautiful Jataro who had literally SCREAMED when she took his mask so he wouldn't puke all over it and she had to calm him down by doing a bit of that makeup she had offered before, not enough to make him actually look different, but he was in no condition to check a mirror, so he begrudgingly took her word. She almost felt bad, she knew he Hated lying, but it is how it is. after that, he had watched her care for the others while he knitted and switched between mimicking Masaru and mimicking Nagisa's manner, depending on whom she looked more willing to strangle. Whatever it took to make her hate him even more.
On the bright side, she had collapsed from pure exhaustion eventually and had the only well night of sleep she can recall having since ever, simply because her mind was too tired to produce a nightmare. However, that small victorious bliss was ripped away from her as only a couple of hours later she was jolted awake from her beauty sleep by the sound of Masaru whining again. She let out a long suffering groan at the noise and rose to her feet, just about ready to smother him with his own pillow, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Kotoko, calm down. It is a nightmare, see?" A calm voice spoke behind her. It lacked the sleepy undertone of someone who had just woken up and she had half a mind to yell at the boy for not sleeping AGAIN, but she stopped herself to listen.
The whine she had heard was, in fact, not a request of her, or of anything specifiaclly really. It was more of a pleading then a whine at all, she realized, and she could all but feel her heart shatter as she realized what it was exactly.
He was begging for mercy, or forgiveness, or even death. He wanted whatever he thought was happening to stop. And they both knew exactly what his dream was.
As she had said to herself (but never out loud), she hated seeing the boys (Her Boys) upset. So, even if this was no where near the first time she had heard this exact thing from this exact redhead, she still felt as heartbroken as the first time she heard it.
Good thing she was an actress, then, as she let out a scoff that (if it had been anyone but the scholar behind her) came across as uncaring and annoyed as she crossed her arms and stomped over to the nightmare ridden boy, Nagisa behind her.
They approached his cot, all previous malice vanished as they looked over the shivering and whimpering boy, curled into a ball tighter then most people would recognize as possible. They both knew better then to touch Masaru. Feeling physical contact was NEVER a goo idea for him. While it woke Kotoko up and used shock to snap her from her horrors, it only reinforced whatever the Hero's perception of reality was and plunged him further into his mind.
The only thing that had proven to work with him was patience, speaking words of encouragement until he woke himself up as they prayed for him to awaken quicker then he did, because every moment of seeing him like this felt like an eternity. It was always Nagisa's job to do that, as Kotoko couldn't bear to say things so kind and Gentle (and she knew none of them blamed her for it even though they SHOULD) and Jataro would only antagonize him in hopes of generating hate that seemed to be depleting (though it wasn't there in the first place, and only Jataro was unaware of that).
"Nagisa, look at me." she commanded, not even waiting for a response as she turned on him and grabbed his face, inspecting him as well as she could. she pressed her palm to his forehead and noticed the fever was no longer there. His nose wan't running anymore and a bit of color had somehow returned to his face, though he still lacked sleep. He looked recovered for the most part, and after having him promise as much she let him go to comfort the boy, only weakened as she heard a strangled scream cut back, quite literally, by a bite.
++++
All he could feel was pain, eyes squeezed tight and mouth desperately trying to remain shut on command.
"Listen here you little bastard! If you keep screaming like that, someone's gonna call the police, and I'll be off to jail! Do you really think there's anyone else out there willing to take in your punk ass?" His father's voice slurred, snarled, screeched, Masaru couldn't really tell as he was too focused trying to listen, because good little boys get to eat and go to school and sleep and maybe even get a lighter beating, and to be a good little boy he had to listen, for once in his life.
Besides, his father wasn't wrong. He never was, Masaru had never even considered claiming as much. Who would want a short fused trouble making scarred and weak thing like himself?
'No one' one voice in his head said with finality, while another one whispered 'they do', but he shook that one off. He didn't even know who 'they' were, probably some hallucination. Just one more thing wrong with him.
He was useless once again, however, as he couldn't stop wailing, even if he was a bit quieter. He knew somewhere in the back of his brain that he had been beaten enough that it should have stopped by now. His father usually got bored or tired or wanted him to do something by now, or Masaru should have passed out from the pain or the shock because he was SURE, from experience, that he had broken at least one arm, so why was he still awake?
It didn't make any sense, but it didn't have to because the thought wasn't too strong, overwhelmed by his willpower being focused on shutting up.
...
...
...
Then he heard a voice, quiet at first but growing louder by the second.
"Wake up, Masaru."
"You are fine, Masaru."
"A leader should be able to tell a dream from reality, honestly!"
"Shut up Kotoko, check on Jataro."
"Come on, you are the brave hero."
"We need out strong leader, Masaru."
"Come on, it's me, Nagisa."
Wake up? But he WAS awake. Everything HURT, so, so, so much, how could he possibly be asleep? He vaguely recalled someone describing Phantom Pain to him, and couldn't quite tell why it mattered or how it connected. He clearly was NOT fine, bloody broken nose and ribs, probably, and bruises everywhere, how was he 'fine'? Him, a leader? Who would ever want him as a leader? Or defend him? Or call him a Hero? Or sire him as BRAVE, out of all the things to call a coward like himself? Or claim that he, as he laid curled up sniveling on the ground, was strong? He was convinced that the voices had the wrong guy, but then they used his name again and he went through all the speech that had been spouted at him
Kotoko. Pink hair and pigtails and viciousness and strawberries and Chestnuts (Peeled) and untouchable and brave, truly brave, not in the way he claimed to be. An actress. A victim. a Fighter.
Jataro. A brown mask that reminded him of wet cardboard and a voice that sounded kinda creepy and Honesty and a hatred for being loved that Masaru hated. An artist. A Latch Key Kid. A Priest.
Nagisa. blue hair that resembled the devil the stupid adults (demons?) pretended he wasn't. Books and help. A better leader then himself, though neither would admit it. A scholar. A test Subject. A Sage.
...Monaca? He felt a jolt of anger at the mere thought of the name and decided to not dwell on the princess.
They were the Warriors of hope. He could very clearly recall killing his father himself.
So, this WAS a dream. The voice, Nagisa, was right, as always. Masaru took deep breathes and thought of waking up, of escaping because he could, because he was a strong and brave leader fit for the warriors.
And he woke with a start.
His eyes were still tightly shut as he feared being wrong, was afraid he had imagined the other warriors and their triumph over the demons and he would open his eyes to that demon. But he smelled the familiar stench of the sewer that other kids would cringe at, and it gave him the courage to open his eyes to see a kneeling Nagisa to his left, looking over him without bothering to mask his worry. He heard a very faint sigh of relief from Kotoko as she approached him, sitting behind him and waiting with a rare patience for her.
It took him a moment to recognize what she was doing. She was silently requesting permission to touch him. he gave a small nod and lifted one of his hands and leaving tears in his skin and blood in his fingernails as he gave her and Nagisa two shaky taps each, unmoving besides that. his eyes zoned out on the floor as he felt Kotoko's fingers leaf through and comb out his hair, rooting him in this dream like reality. Nagisa tenderly took one of his hands, not wanting to restrict Masaru's control in anyway.
He could pull away from both of them, if he wanted to, and neither of them would stop him or get angry or cling to him anyways. He was in total control of the situation, and he was ever grateful to them for reinforcing it. He focused on calming down, every muscle in his body so tense he was sure he would be sore for days, though these dreams were common enough that he was used to the dull ache. He heard Nagisa counting his breaths, 'in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, hold, 1, 2, 3, out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 1. Repeat, in, 1, 2,' and so on, and Masaru found himself following the soft instructions, though some tiny fire wanted to yell at them for babying him. He was the leader! He should be stronger than a stupid dream!
Despite that, he allowed them to continue, the angry voice nearly inaudible in in his mind over Nagisa's counting and Kotoko's light teasing (how is your hair always sticking up, like some stupid shonen protagonist anyway?) and the small tugs of his hair that he might be afraid of if it was anyone else.
He understood that Kotoko couldn't be fully nice and indulgent, she had to be inflicting some sort of pain, it's how she had her own control. He also understood that if it did bother him, because sometimes it did, she would scoff at him for being a crybaby but be softer anyway because she didn't WANT to hurt them, she just HAD to sometimes, and that's okay. Or at least, as okay as any of them were.
He eventually clered his head enough to inturupt Nagisa's soft, repetitve counting with a question, and if his voce shook they all ignored it.
"You should get some rest. Aren't you still sick?" He almost accused, a small frown gracing his lips as he studied the boy. He wasn't that good at detecting a lie, but he could try. Kotoko was there anyway.
"I'm feeling better. It seems that your instant nurturing aided my recovery." He admitted with a small smile, Kotoko humming lightly to confirm his claim.
Masaru smiled and nodded lightly, eventually relaxing himself. He tried to get up, to do SOMETHING, because he was the Leader and he should be helping. However, Kotoko gave his hair a tug as he moved to sit up and scoffed.
"Like you're going anywhere. You need rest, stupid!" she scolded, ruffling his hair playfully, a silent 'no harm done'. He glanced at Nagisa for assistance and couldn't help his pout as Nagisa smirked and shook his head.
"I'm smart enough not to argue with her on this. please follow my lead." he shrugged, earning a nod and beaming, innocent smile from Kotoko and a reluctant sigh from Masaru as he drifted back to sleep to the softer sensation of Kotoko's fingers and Nagisa's light humming of a classical song learned long ago.
It was...Nice.