beat ☠️ daisukenojo bito (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stillarhino) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamcrystals2022-09-09 09:02 pm
stillarhino) wrote in dreamcrystals2022-09-09 09:02 pm
open 💀 first recording | passive dream
Sender: Beat
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Some spoilers for the OG The World Ends With You.
Whenever this time of the year came around, a sense of dread would bubble up deep within him. It would start in his stomach and slowly make its way up to his throat, settling itself there. It was uncomfortable and no matter what he'd do to try to gulp it down, it remained stuck.
This day was no different.
Beat seems to be a few years younger, wearing a slouchy beanie with a skull sewn onto it, his hair pulled back and tucked underneath it. His usual headphones are absent from his head. He’s dressed in a school uniform, but his surroundings do not depict him to be in any such place.
Instead, he wanders Shibuya aimlessly—riding down the streets of Dogenzaka on his skateboard, perusing new albums available in Tower Records, even just hanging out at the convenience store by the Moyai statue. Everywhere but where he was supposed to be.
He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, navigating his way to the unread message from someone named “Rhyme”.
A moment passes before he types up a reply:
His message was cold and he knows it deep down. But he sends it anyway, tucking his phone away before he continues loitering about the city.
By nightfall, he finds himself staring up at a modest two-story home, standing just outside its gate. He doesn't know how much time has passed since he's gotten here, but he lets out a sigh, steeling himself for what was to come. The gate’s hinges creak slightly as he pushes it open, a plaque on the gate reading the family name “Bito”.
The lump in his throat still remains.
It isn’t before long that he finds himself standing in front of a Japanese man, dressed in business attire, his tie loose around his neck after a long day at work. To his side sits a rather tall woman with blond hair, an apron draped in front of her dress. He’s filled with dread once again, the pit in his stomach growing larger and deeper as a tightness begins to form in his chest.
Beat reaches out and hands over a card toward them. On it are his grades for the semester. They are well above the passing grade, but nothing spectacular. He knows they’re nothing spectacular. He knows he isn’t anything spectacular. Not in their eyes.
The expression on his face is hard to read as they go over his grades and Beat hasn’t said a single word throughout. His lips remain a straight line and his eyes appear to be downcast. Is it apathy? Is it fear?
He opens his mouth, ready to put himself down, ready to fight them. That’s how it always is after all.
“Good job, son.”
The words catch in his throat before they could leave him. Beat’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, staring at them. They look back at him with proud smiles on their faces.
“You did well, Daisukenojo,” said the man.
Beat recoils when he hears the name but doesn’t say anything at first. He continues to stare at them for a moment longer, dumbfounded by the turn of events. “Are you two serious?” he finally asks. His usual manner of speech is missing, but the same inflections and brash tone of his voice remain.
“Of course we’re serious.” This time it’s the woman who speaks, looking back at him incredulously. “You did your best, didn’t you? As long as you do that, we couldn’t be any prouder of you.”
The man stands from his seat and walks to Beat, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s eat out tonight to celebrate, all four of us. How does hot pot sound?”
Beat looks at the man, then the woman. Finally, the surprise on his face disappears and he lets out a laugh. His voice almost cracks when he speaks. “Yeah, hot pot sounds great, dad.”
He hears a quiet ring of a bell nearby. Turning towards the source, he sees a young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes smiling at him, a bell pendant hanging from a leather strap around her neck. He smiles back at her, blinking back the tears that begin to pool at the edge of his eyes.
And then he wakes.
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Some spoilers for the OG The World Ends With You.
Whenever this time of the year came around, a sense of dread would bubble up deep within him. It would start in his stomach and slowly make its way up to his throat, settling itself there. It was uncomfortable and no matter what he'd do to try to gulp it down, it remained stuck.
This day was no different.
Beat seems to be a few years younger, wearing a slouchy beanie with a skull sewn onto it, his hair pulled back and tucked underneath it. His usual headphones are absent from his head. He’s dressed in a school uniform, but his surroundings do not depict him to be in any such place.
Instead, he wanders Shibuya aimlessly—riding down the streets of Dogenzaka on his skateboard, perusing new albums available in Tower Records, even just hanging out at the convenience store by the Moyai statue. Everywhere but where he was supposed to be.
He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, navigating his way to the unread message from someone named “Rhyme”.
Are you coming home soon?
A moment passes before he types up a reply:
ill head home when i feel like it
His message was cold and he knows it deep down. But he sends it anyway, tucking his phone away before he continues loitering about the city.
By nightfall, he finds himself staring up at a modest two-story home, standing just outside its gate. He doesn't know how much time has passed since he's gotten here, but he lets out a sigh, steeling himself for what was to come. The gate’s hinges creak slightly as he pushes it open, a plaque on the gate reading the family name “Bito”.
The lump in his throat still remains.
It isn’t before long that he finds himself standing in front of a Japanese man, dressed in business attire, his tie loose around his neck after a long day at work. To his side sits a rather tall woman with blond hair, an apron draped in front of her dress. He’s filled with dread once again, the pit in his stomach growing larger and deeper as a tightness begins to form in his chest.
Beat reaches out and hands over a card toward them. On it are his grades for the semester. They are well above the passing grade, but nothing spectacular. He knows they’re nothing spectacular. He knows he isn’t anything spectacular. Not in their eyes.
The expression on his face is hard to read as they go over his grades and Beat hasn’t said a single word throughout. His lips remain a straight line and his eyes appear to be downcast. Is it apathy? Is it fear?
He opens his mouth, ready to put himself down, ready to fight them. That’s how it always is after all.
“Good job, son.”
The words catch in his throat before they could leave him. Beat’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, staring at them. They look back at him with proud smiles on their faces.
“You did well, Daisukenojo,” said the man.
Beat recoils when he hears the name but doesn’t say anything at first. He continues to stare at them for a moment longer, dumbfounded by the turn of events. “Are you two serious?” he finally asks. His usual manner of speech is missing, but the same inflections and brash tone of his voice remain.
“Of course we’re serious.” This time it’s the woman who speaks, looking back at him incredulously. “You did your best, didn’t you? As long as you do that, we couldn’t be any prouder of you.”
The man stands from his seat and walks to Beat, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s eat out tonight to celebrate, all four of us. How does hot pot sound?”
Beat looks at the man, then the woman. Finally, the surprise on his face disappears and he lets out a laugh. His voice almost cracks when he speaks. “Yeah, hot pot sounds great, dad.”
He hears a quiet ring of a bell nearby. Turning towards the source, he sees a young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes smiling at him, a bell pendant hanging from a leather strap around her neck. He smiles back at her, blinking back the tears that begin to pool at the edge of his eyes.
And then he wakes.
> action
[When Shirou does get to Beat's place, he'll find that it's still dimly lit and that Beat can't seem to be found. Call out for him?]
no subject
Anyone home? That's weird, I swear I got the right address. Did I take a wrong turn somewhere?
[ and why is it so dark in here anyway? He has so many questions. ]
no subject
Over here, yo.
[Someone didn't bother turning on the lights.]
no subject
[ oh my god. ]
So it turns out you were here all along.
no subject
Was tryin' to get back to sleep. But ain't nothin's working.
no subject
[Clearing your head of thoughts might seem simple but it's effective!]
no subject
I don't know to do any of that fancy mediating crap, yo. [It's not really fancy though...] 'Sides, that kinda thing even work?
no subject
[No, Beat doesn't look like the meditating type. Shirou insists on this method anyway. ]
no subject
[He still looks skeptical. But he follows Shirou's instruction after a moment, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths... At least he does for half a minute.]
It ain't working.
no subject
[Shirou shakes his head and then sighs.]
Try again but this time focus more. I might be asking for a lot but it'll help you.
no subject
[And he even closes his eyes again taking a few deep breaths like Shirou told him to. He does this a few times but his foot starts to jiggle, jackhammering against the floor as he grows more and more antsy that it doesn't seem to be doing anything.]
How long is this supposed to take?
no subject
[He knows Beat is trying but this is kind of sad.]
You're really not used to meditating, are you? Closing your eyes will help too.
no subject
[And just as he says that, he cracks his eyes open to see if Shirou was doing similar. Seeing that Shirou was just watching him, both his eyes fly open.]
You even lookin' at me, man! I'm doin' 'sactly whatchu tellin' me to do.
[He groans, throwing his head back onto the could, pressing it against the top of the headrest.]
It ain't no use, yo. Prob'ly just gonna stay up the rest a' the night.
no subject
[Tea always works when you're in doubt.]
If your mind isn't cooperating then maybe your stomach will.
no subject
[He lets out a sharp breath before standind and beginning to make his way towards the kitchen.]
Can prob'ly bring somethin' to munch on with it. You want a drink too?
no subject
[He's being respectful of Beat's living space okay. ]
I'm not going to ask for much since I'm still a guest at your place.
no subject
[Beat's home is a bit of a mess but there's definitely somewhere to seat that didn't have something else on it prior.
It takes a little while but Beat does come back with a pot with tea brewing in one hand, twoo cups under his other arm, and a glass of water in his other hand. He lays all of them out on the table, spilling a little bit of the water on the table, but managing to balance the hot tea.]
Brought ya a cup for tea in case ya wanted some too.
[He wasn't going to drink some without at least offering.]
Yo, thanks for swingin' by.