dreamcrystals | [02] three lies, one truth

Entry tags:

[02] three lies, one truth

Sender: Susato Mikotoba
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
Warning: Descriptions of death (specifically: falling/burning, stabbing, freezing, drowning) and the crippling fear that comes with that.

When Susato is first seen, she is nigh unrecognizable. There's only a glimpse of her. Her hair is frazzled, long well past her shoulders, and the white dress she wears, accented by pinks, does not match the grim darkness of the cage she is in. Seconds later, there's a loud metallic clang as the cage is shut.

There's movement like a shaky camera, and you... no, Susato is looking into the eyes of one man who looks almost surprised to see her. As if he hadn't been the one to put her there.

"Mr Vigil?"

The voice is small and cracks like glass over the flames below.

Before he can respond, there's the sound of a lever and a deafening scream as a feeling of terrifying weightlessness takes over your body.

You're falling, and you don't know when you'll stop.

* * * * *
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

When the dream spits you out, you can taste a mixture of blood and dirt as you blink your eyes open. They sting like you've been crying, and when you bring your filthy hands up to look at them, you can see the pink of your kimono sleeves. The loops in your air feel looser and messier than usual as you can feel the terrifying glare of a man before you, bleeding and in chains, and yet no less threatening.

All around you are corpses. You just barely manage to struggle to your feet when he moves to strike you down with alarming quickness, his blade and scythe at his call. Something hard and sharp pierces your stomach as his voice booms:

"You will not tarnish... my brother's memory...!"

You were so close. You can see some of the broken chains you worked so hard at; he was almost free.

But it's too late.

A laughter seems to be coming from the noble in the portrait behind the Reaper, and an eerie red glow bleeds out from the canvas as your consciousness fades.

* * * * *

The laughter transforms into something else, another voice. It is almost pleasant; and the scene is entirely different now. A gorgeous ballroom surrounds you with an air of celebration, you are humbled, taking the man before you in a dance. Here is the face that everyone says you can trust, and yet you can hear suspicious whispers coming from the walls.

Something is wrong.

You feel cold in a way that is inexplicable. Your very core is frozen, and it feels like you will never get warm. suddenly it's a struggle just to move with the music; but eventually you stop listening to that, too.

"Don't struggle." The king pulls you close in what is most certainly a threatening manner. Beneath your gloves, your fingers have already become ice. "Your death is inevitable now. Accept it with grace, and don't scream."

But even if you wanted to, you can't.

Pathetic gurgles escape your throat as ice travels up your chest and your neck. A piece of your white hair falls across your face, but when you go to brush it away, your hands won't move. Nothing will.

There is stillness. For a moment, you have hope, because you can still move your terrified, wide eyes, but soon that too is gone.

* * * * *
In that moment, you're not able to look at anything else.

Your neck is craned upwards and suddenly, the dream has shifted one final time. You're staring at the surface of the freezing cold water from below, unable to breathe, but the Gods above have mercy on you, and it doesn't last long. A glaring white starts to creep into the corners of your vision, filling everything in haze, and the dream ends as suddenly as it began.

* * * * *

[ Back in the comparative comforts of her home, Susato awakes with a start. She gasps for breath like she's just been held underwater, sitting up and gripping at her blankets. For all she knows, they are her lifeline. She is shaking, the faded memories of dreamscapes past rushing back to her, and she feels her arm knock something off the bed she's on.

......All she can do is breathe. ]

(( ooc: tl;dr, just a fun throwback to the fun deaths i've been able to put her through this past year. <3 please assume delayed responses where appropriate/etc. ))

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[ Susato stops when Kazuma does, and she can feel his gaze, but is unable to meet it. He's not here to scold her, yet it feels like he did. She can almost feel the ground wavering beneath her feet, but unfortunately, it does not open up to swallow her whole. She lets out a shaky breath, listening to his every word, and her hand will feel colder for a moment before she lets go of him.

She brings up her hand to stare at it, turning it over. ]

Does that make me ugly as well as naive?

[He would like to refute her, cause to him, she was beautiful. His light. But the reality of it all that he's come to learn...]

There's an ugliness in everyone. [He reaches for her hand, trying to hold it in both of his.] But that doesn't change how I feel about you. I'm more worried than anything.

[ The reassurance probably makes her feel better than she'd care to admit. Something she might not have even known she needed. She allows his hands to take hers again, making an effort to squeeze him back. ]

Mm. Well... there is no need for that. I promise that this 'ugliness,' or whatever we've decided to call it, will not haunt me. Nor will yours ever change how I feel about you.

[ She will return the favor, giving him that reassurance in return. ]

Sometimes it just... rises to the surface rather suddenly. Isn't that so?

...It does. Which making such promises like that, may not come to fruition. So, rather than make a promise... [He gently pulls her along, as they near a chair she could sit in. A moment to take in some air, before he looks her in the eyes.]

I'll say what you've always told me. I'm here for you, and you don't need to go through this alone.

[ Before she even notices, she finds herself in the chair. It is an ordinary chair, with nothing special about it, yet he makes it feel like a throne. She fidgets, eager to keep busy, but takes a deep breath to allow him to care for her the way she cared for him.

Because... that is how relationships work.

...She is not alone. ]

I know. Thank you.

[ ...... ]

I did not intend to keep any secrets.

[He'll keep to her side, rubbing her hand for a moment. He said he would make her tea, but he's hesitant to let her go just yet.]

You did not wish to burden me?

[ Her gaze naturally shifts, though it is out of thought rather than any need to avoid him. She catches sight of the cabinet where they keep their tea and wonders if a task to focus on would help settle her nerves, but the gentle rubbing motions at her hand seem to help for the moment.

She nods. ]

I didn't know how, or whether it would even be appropriate to come to you after every nightmare. Then, eventually... I let the memories fade.

...Well, they haven't really left, have they? [He puts his hand on her hand, giving her gentle headpats and finally, letting her go so he can prepare the tea. Maybe some of the tea he had gifted her might help. He keeps himself in her view while he works.]

Did all those actually happen to you, in some form or another...? [Did she actually die?]

[ Susato watches, unable to argue the point. She does remember his thoughtful gift, too, right around the time rummages and finds the box. Eagerness tugs at her, and her hands itch to be doing what he is doing, but she ignores it.

Only a mild fidgeting results. Idle motions as she scratches a spot on her arm. ]

At the time, I think Mr Vigil felt responsible because it happened. In the dreamscape he created...

...Do you think that counts as "some form"?

[He's occasionally glancing in her direction, making sure she's doing ok and also not trying to help. He'll return to her side once the pot has been set on the stove, waiting for it to boil.]

I meant if you actually experience what happened at the end of those nightmares. Or are they fantasies created from your mind? [He looks to where she was scratching.]

[ When she notices Kazuma looking, the scratching stops, without her even really thinking about it. She is quiet for a moment, waiting for steam to rise from the kettle as she replies: ]

I experienced them as if they were real.

. . . [He knows, he understands why she didn't want to say anything to him. But he really wished she did. He can guess how much she endured on her own. And now, she's ignoring her arm when she noticed him looking. It could be nothing but...he reaches for her hand, slowly straightening the arm. He's not even going to ask as he slowly lifts her sleeve.]

[ At first, it really doesn't look like anything, and Susato doesn't resist, either. She's a little confused at first, and probably didn't even realise she was scratching it. Kazuma might even think it's safe to allow her kimono to fall back over her arm. Just as he'll allow it, however, there is a slight tingling sensation from the scar closer to her shoulder from Halloween.

This sensation continues trailing down her arm, like it is crawling, until the feeling spiders out right around where she had been scratching. The marks that appear there next look very faint, making it hard to tell, but it has a web-like appearance. ]

...?

[It's hard to see in the dim light, but he could definitely see something that should not be there. The look of worry clear in his expression.]

How long has this been here...? [He hears the whistling from the kettle as the water reaches to a boil. What a terrible time for that to happen as he reluctantly leaves Susato's side to continue prepping the tea.]

[ Terrible for him, perhaps. Susato feels rather thankful for the space for the moment as she swallows her surprise, and she is already reaching for her arm to feel it. It doesn't hurt; you could almost mistake it for dry skin...? Has she been neglecting her skin care lately?

She runs her hand along that arm, pushing her sleeve back up and keeps going until she can no longer feel it. At her shoulder, the scar is clearer, but she knows about that one, and by now, Kazuma would, too. ]

This... This was from the night we found Ryunosuke-san at the carnival in the dollhouse, but I've never seen...? [ She trails off, seeming unsure of how to describe the rest. ]

[There's the sound of water pouring. A moment later, Kazuma will returned with a tea tray, setting it on the table. The tea needed some time to soak before he can pour, so for now, he'll take a seat and continue their previous conversation.]

It hasn't gotten better? [Don't mind him, reaching to hold that arm again. It's hard to tell by his stoic nature, but he is starting to stress a little. These nightmares of things that have apparently happened to her, now this strange scar. Definitely worried now.]

[ Rather than get better, that scar seems to have spread, but she finds it difficult to voice that particular observation. She manages to glance longingly at the tea tray, empty cups sitting invitingly next to the kettle, but she still doesn't resist while Kazuma has her arm. She can sense his worry, written clear in the furrow of his brow. ]

It will. It doesn't hurt...

Why, I've hardly noticed it. [ Coming from someone as observant as Susato, that has to mean something. ]

[He hears her, but it only fills him with more doubt. He starts rubbing her arm.]

You'd tell me if it does, won't you? [Or get worse. Even now, he's wondering if there's anything that be done.]

Of course I will.

[ She doesn't even think about it. The response comes automatically, and after a moment, she'll reach for his hand that is rubbing along her arm to hold it in place. Gently, she squeezes, giving him what is hopefully a reassuring smile. ]

Now, will you let me pour our tea or not...?

[He just looks at the hand holding onto his. He hears her words, but unable to give her a response. Instead, he gently pulls her hand, leaning in closer so he can just give her a hug. Was it for himself, or for her? Maybe they both needed it.]

[ It's definitely needed. Susato's eyes widen, and there is a quiet gasp that escapes as she feels air fill her lungs. In the following moment, she stays frozen, the tea forgotten, and in the next, she melts, returning the gesture as her arms wrap around him.

She can feel wetness starting to form at her eyes as she closes them. ]

I love you.

[He rubs her back in a comforting manner. He breathes deeply, holding their embrace.]

I love you as well, and I don't want you to suffer. [A strange turn of events for him to say, all things considered.]

[ Susato's breath is shaky with relief. Although he shows it every day and she knows, hearing it still feels like something different entirely. There is what feels like a long time, when she doesn't feel like she has to say anything, but then she mumbles against his clothes. ]

I know.

[ ...It's just a bad dream. ]

I don't want you to suffer either. Not anymore.

[ Not ever. ]

Well, I'm not the one suffering at this moment. [He knows she wouldn't let him, but it's not about him right now. His face is pressed into her hair, taking in her fragrance as he kisses her head.]

Talk to me, if you think it'll help. [The tea is probably ready to be pour at this point. With one arm still holding onto her, he's going to start pouring the tea into the cups. A tea pouring a shade of bluish purple.]

Mmm. [ The feeling of face against his hair as he kissed her still lingers, but only for a moment longer. In the next, she is looking on with eagerness as the steaming, bluish-purple tea is poured. She leans into him. ]

...I don't want to anger you.

[ It's not worth ruining this moment... ]

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