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.
no subject
Rhyme was the girl with the bell?
[She isn't meaning to pry. She just is worried, confused. Wondering if he was alright after that dream. Strange as it was, if he was dreaming of his parents being different somehow. Nicer. She supposes most everyone who didn't get along so well with their parents as she does with her father.]
no subject
Right now, he's thankful that this is all being done through the journal. That he isn't talking to anyone face to face.]
more like a nightmare...
and yeah thats rhyme
shes my sister
no subject
Your sister. I only have my onii-chan back home and my dad. I do hope things might improve when you get back home though. With your parents. Once you get back.
no subject
i think we good with just talking like this for now...
thanks though
i dunno if things are ever gonna get better with them
they been like that my whole life so i dont see them changing outta nowhere
no subject
That's okay. At the least, I can listen? Talk like this. However you want to say this.
You don't think so? I guess maybe I might be more inclined to believe the best in people, to see the good. I know Syaoran-kun has told me to be more careful back home. But maybe something might give them the push. You never know? I'm not sure how much you want to to into it in telling me how different they are from this. I don't know if this is helping at all.
no subject
man i miss texting yo
my hands starting to cramp up from all this writing
sounds to me like you just got a good heart
i...
[Just how much does he want to say? They barely know each other, only having spoken to each other a couple of times.
Beat would be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt but when your inadequacy in their eyes is something you've lived with all your life, it was hard to see otherwise. But it had been a lot of the same thing over and over again, and even he could only take so much.]
i guess i just dunno what that push gotta be you know?
and you helping sakura
u helping loads
thanks yo
no subject
A good heart?
I am? I wasn't sure exactly. How much of this you might have wanted to show or talk about, or how much of it might be changed. I just figure. People were there when I dreamed. When I dreamed of the cards earlier, so. I figure I can at least be here for you.
no subject
dont want anyone knowing
[There's a pause as he stops writing for a moment. What did he not want people knowing? That he was such a screw-up? That he couldn't live up to what his parents expected of him? The dream he had didn't show that. At least not directly.
Then why did he still feel like absolute trash? Like he was useless.]
i just aint one to talk about the stuff i dream about
no subject
no subject
But the vulnerability he feels still gnaws at the forefront of his mind. That, while he was didn't hide much about himself, there were still a few things he doesn't want to show to just anyone right off the bat.]
well all i gotta say is i dont think that there aint nothing i can do to change my folks minds
they been like the for as long as i can remember and theyve stopped giving a damn about me
no subject
[It does not change or help the situation with his parents. She knows that. But she does at least want to say her piece in reassuring him some others at least did give a damn, as he put it.]
no subject
In fact, it was her opinion that the really cared about. And the rest of his friends', both back home and here. Sakura included. Even if there was still a part of him that felt a sting from his parents' lack of acknowledgment, that bit of reassurance helped more than he would've thought. ]
thanks
told ya you was helping yo
no subject
I hope so. At the least, I can listen. Even if my family has a different relationship to yours.
no subject
honestly i glad your sitchiation with your fam aint like mine
but thanks for the assist yo
least now i know i can hit ya up if i feel like talking about it
no subject