Youji Kudou (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
slantedcross) wrote2010-02-24 06:37 am
slantedcross) wrote2010-02-24 06:37 am
dream (flashback nightmare) † 001 † 02-24-10
Warnings: Murder by strangulation, one swear word.
“Every time you call me Asuka, it makes me sick,” she spat.
“Asuka…” It was all he could say, his horror mounting. He was certain, was still certain, the Schreient girl, the quiet one with the visor was Asuka. His Asuka. He'd know her anywhere. He was certain, had been, she was here, standing before him, and she was smirking at him. At his surprise and despair.
“How pitiful," she said. "You really don’t get it, do you?”
Her smile was haughty and cold.
“No,” he said softly. Desperately, wanting her to believe. “You are Asuka.”
Dimly, he perceived Aya getting hit.
"You and your simple ambitions. Are you really a man? Not like my dear Masafumi." She took pride in him, all of Schreient did, but she'd told him. She couldn't remember before that, it hurt when she did--wasn't the natural conclusion in that situation that he'd done something to her? That Masafumi had done something to ruin her?
“Dear Masafumi.” He repeated it, softly, flatly, brokenly.
She smiled. She saw it, saw the pain, and it pleased her—she was in front of him now, right in his face, “Die,” she hissed. She slammed him, and her demeanor flipped from icy and mocking to raging and vengeful.
“But just killing you doesn’t avenge him,” she snapped. She was getting into it now, pleasure beginning to drip from every word, like venom from a snake’s fang. “I’m going to torture you, and you’ll die slowly in pain!”
She slammed him to the ground, and he didn’t feel it. Couldn’t see her, even as he stared up, lost, looking. Asuka. He was so close. There she was, lying atop him, how many times he’d dreamed of having her like this, some lazy Sunday morning with nothing to do, nothing to do but just be, the two of them, together.
“What a fool,” she said, mockingly again, and all he could do was stare blankly. Omi and Ken were trapped, Omi was in some other trouble, and Aya was faring badly.
He saw her, for a split second, as the Asuka she’d been—his partner, his reason for getting up in the morning and following her at night. His eyes narrowed.
His hands struggled with the decision longer than his head did. The wire was still there from when he’d meant to save Aya, and he held it taut. The thing to do was to kill her. She was the enemy, Schreient was the target, and she was preventing him from completing his mission.
She was Asuka and he was going to kill her.
Her neck was thin. She was thin. His wire was snugly wrapped around, and she was thin and light, he’d always been able to pick her up and she hated it, but she’d laughed anyway; and now he flipped her, flipped her up onto his back, all she could do now was struggle against him, gasping, dying, choking for breath, her hair falling into his eyes—it smelled fresh and clean, and somewhat fruity, and he could almost swear it was the same shampoo Asuka used to buy, almost swear but not quite.
It hurt. It hurt her; she’d have ligature marks all up and down her neck, deep red ones that wouldn’t fade because there would be no blood to carry oxygen, and no oxygen to carry, when he was finished.
Why was this hard? How many people had he killed? How many people had he strangled? How many people had he snared in his wire, trapped tight around their neck, lifted them off the ground and watched them fight for air until they died?
He was—someone was killing Asuka, and why wasn’t he saving her, why was he just standing there, pulling the wires tighter, shrinking away from her struggling limbs, her gasping, why wasn’t he freeing her—he had to stop it, stop it, and the only way was to pull, tighter and tighter and tighter, end her misery.
Asuka was dying and he was killing her.
But the least she could do, the very least, he was doing the right thing, wasn’t he? Completing the mission. Removing an obstacle. She would die, not be a problem, eliminated like all targets, and they would get out. He’d get Omi, Ken and Aya out.
She gasped again, he was freeing her, he thought desperately. He was freeing her from Neu. She would be Asuka again. He was ending her misery, he pulled,, tightening the trap, blocking her air—how was she gasping, how was she making noise? Her brain should be shutting down, losing oxygen, she couldn’t speak without oxygen, what was he doing wrong, damn it, he knew how to fucking kill someone—
“Masafumi…” she rasped. “I love you.”
Youji screamed.
---
“Not again.”
Youji sat up tiredly, feeling his throat. It was particularly raw; he wondered if he’d screamed out loud in his sleep. Certainly felt like it, but he couldn’t help smiling. He knew the dream, but he’d never had it two nights in a row before.
“I knew you hadn’t left me, Asuka,” he whispered, his smile tired and bitter. His head turned towards the far wall.
“Of course not,” Asuka said sadly. Sadly, but smiling. “You never really wanted me to.”
[OOC: Text in this color represents Youji's hallucinations. Asuka's ghost is a figment of Youji's imagination; her actions and dialogue are included because a) this is third-limited from Youji's POV and b) for mun reference. If your character can see or hear Asuka, something is very, very wrong with them. =D]
“Every time you call me Asuka, it makes me sick,” she spat.
“Asuka…” It was all he could say, his horror mounting. He was certain, was still certain, the Schreient girl, the quiet one with the visor was Asuka. His Asuka. He'd know her anywhere. He was certain, had been, she was here, standing before him, and she was smirking at him. At his surprise and despair.
“How pitiful," she said. "You really don’t get it, do you?”
Her smile was haughty and cold.
“No,” he said softly. Desperately, wanting her to believe. “You are Asuka.”
Dimly, he perceived Aya getting hit.
"You and your simple ambitions. Are you really a man? Not like my dear Masafumi." She took pride in him, all of Schreient did, but she'd told him. She couldn't remember before that, it hurt when she did--wasn't the natural conclusion in that situation that he'd done something to her? That Masafumi had done something to ruin her?
“Dear Masafumi.” He repeated it, softly, flatly, brokenly.
She smiled. She saw it, saw the pain, and it pleased her—she was in front of him now, right in his face, “Die,” she hissed. She slammed him, and her demeanor flipped from icy and mocking to raging and vengeful.
“But just killing you doesn’t avenge him,” she snapped. She was getting into it now, pleasure beginning to drip from every word, like venom from a snake’s fang. “I’m going to torture you, and you’ll die slowly in pain!”
She slammed him to the ground, and he didn’t feel it. Couldn’t see her, even as he stared up, lost, looking. Asuka. He was so close. There she was, lying atop him, how many times he’d dreamed of having her like this, some lazy Sunday morning with nothing to do, nothing to do but just be, the two of them, together.
“What a fool,” she said, mockingly again, and all he could do was stare blankly. Omi and Ken were trapped, Omi was in some other trouble, and Aya was faring badly.
He saw her, for a split second, as the Asuka she’d been—his partner, his reason for getting up in the morning and following her at night. His eyes narrowed.
His hands struggled with the decision longer than his head did. The wire was still there from when he’d meant to save Aya, and he held it taut. The thing to do was to kill her. She was the enemy, Schreient was the target, and she was preventing him from completing his mission.
She was Asuka and he was going to kill her.
Her neck was thin. She was thin. His wire was snugly wrapped around, and she was thin and light, he’d always been able to pick her up and she hated it, but she’d laughed anyway; and now he flipped her, flipped her up onto his back, all she could do now was struggle against him, gasping, dying, choking for breath, her hair falling into his eyes—it smelled fresh and clean, and somewhat fruity, and he could almost swear it was the same shampoo Asuka used to buy, almost swear but not quite.
It hurt. It hurt her; she’d have ligature marks all up and down her neck, deep red ones that wouldn’t fade because there would be no blood to carry oxygen, and no oxygen to carry, when he was finished.
Why was this hard? How many people had he killed? How many people had he strangled? How many people had he snared in his wire, trapped tight around their neck, lifted them off the ground and watched them fight for air until they died?
He was—someone was killing Asuka, and why wasn’t he saving her, why was he just standing there, pulling the wires tighter, shrinking away from her struggling limbs, her gasping, why wasn’t he freeing her—he had to stop it, stop it, and the only way was to pull, tighter and tighter and tighter, end her misery.
Asuka was dying and he was killing her.
But the least she could do, the very least, he was doing the right thing, wasn’t he? Completing the mission. Removing an obstacle. She would die, not be a problem, eliminated like all targets, and they would get out. He’d get Omi, Ken and Aya out.
She gasped again, he was freeing her, he thought desperately. He was freeing her from Neu. She would be Asuka again. He was ending her misery, he pulled,, tightening the trap, blocking her air—how was she gasping, how was she making noise? Her brain should be shutting down, losing oxygen, she couldn’t speak without oxygen, what was he doing wrong, damn it, he knew how to fucking kill someone—
“Masafumi…” she rasped. “I love you.”
Youji screamed.
---
“Not again.”
Youji sat up tiredly, feeling his throat. It was particularly raw; he wondered if he’d screamed out loud in his sleep. Certainly felt like it, but he couldn’t help smiling. He knew the dream, but he’d never had it two nights in a row before.
“I knew you hadn’t left me, Asuka,” he whispered, his smile tired and bitter. His head turned towards the far wall.
“Of course not,” Asuka said sadly. Sadly, but smiling. “You never really wanted me to.”
[OOC: Text in this color represents Youji's hallucinations. Asuka's ghost is a figment of Youji's imagination; her actions and dialogue are included because a) this is third-limited from Youji's POV and b) for mun reference. If your character can see or hear Asuka, something is very, very wrong with them. =D]
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Hey, um... are you okay?
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I'm fine.
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[There are a lot of questions he wants to ask - what's Neu to you; who's Asuka; didn't Schreient die, all or mostly? - a lot of questions that were he dealing with pretty much anybody else at all he might well have done. With Youji, it's somehow so much harder. He wants, quite desperately, to know what's going on: more than that though, he's worried about making matters worse by pressing for an explanation.]
You don't look fine. That... wasn't just a bad dream, was it?
[When does this happen?]
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If Schreient isn't waiting outside my door, I'm pretty sure it was just a dream.
[Now, anyway. Shortly into Ken's future, on the other hand... How might this mess things up for Ken, assuming he ever resumed his life? Not even the sharpest memory could escape three years without a bit of dulling around the edges, but he remembered that Ken had seen through her, too. And he remembered that he'd clocked the kid pretty good, too.]
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[He wishes he knew what to do, what to say, but he's never been good with words.]
They're meant to be dead. Or-- or maybe they aren't, I don't know. But... Youji, where I'm from they haven't tried anything since Masafumi died. Not like that they haven't.
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I'm going back to sleep, all right? I'll see you in the morning.
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[Ken very nearly hangs up - it's clearly what Youji's after him to do, but he stops himself and asks:]
Sure you don't want company? You don't have to talk if you don't want to.
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You found me a girl, Ken? [He smiles slightly.]
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No, but I can probably find you a beer if you need one.
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[The Ayas had already banned him from alcohol, but what they didn't know couldn't hurt him.]
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Youji.
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Aya.
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I've had this nightmare enough times that it doesn't bother me anymore.
[He was mostly lying; he'd gotten better at dealing with this particular memory, but the memory still hurt. He'd almost forgotten the scent of her hair, the bit of the wire into his hands, the weakening rasp of her voice on those last words...
But it was just a nightmare. Nothing more.]
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How's Sena doing?
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[Sigh.]
Listen, Aya. I appreciate you, but Ken is on his way over and has no idea what he just saw. I'm going to try and play it off as an overactive imagination, but if he catches us talking about it as if it actually happened...
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I'll wish you luck with that then.
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[Nods to him and hangs up.]
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She finally settles on waiting until that afternoon to call-- and hoping she can pull off a balance of not directly mentioning the dream while still making it clear this was her checking on him afterwards.]
Hi... How are things?
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I'm sick of being indoors, but otherwise, great.
How about you, Aya?
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I'm fine. It must be pretty boring having to stay inside all the time, right? We should plan for an outing sometime soon. Where would you like to go?
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If I had a car, or even a wheelchair, I'd like to take you shopping, though.
[The whole "No money in Somarium! :D" concept hasn't really taken root in his mind yet.]
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[Yes, Youji has to take shots at Ken even when he's not in the room. Youji's kind of mean that way.
He does smile a little when Aya-chan says she doesn't want to leave. He knows how she feels; he doesn't like the idea of being brought here against his will, but he likes the idea of facing the consequences of the Koua Mission and his colluding with Tsujii even less.]
You've missed your brother, then? He's missed you, too.
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--Well, ok, you aren't too bad, but that's why you need to be the one along to help me pick some out. I think we need a schoolteacher theme for Ran-niichan...
[She'll get to the part about missing her brother in a minute... Right now she's a little too busy scheming new ways to break his brain.]
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Why pin-ups?
I say we go for the real thing.
[Especially with the schoolteachers. Youji is wondering now if Asami will ever make her way to Somarium.]
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[Never mind. Scheming has fully taken over. Ask about missing her brother again later. :| ]
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Let's see. Your brother's birthday is in the summer, right? So is Sena's. Mine and Omi's are too soon, and Ken's just passed.
[Youji smiles slowly.]
Summertime will be a good excuse. You can tell your brother they were so hot they had to dress down some to cool off.
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[He's laughing pretty hard at this. He's not laughed like this--happily, not sarcastically--in a good while.]
No. Seriously. That is an excellent idea. When is your birthday? We need to plan ahead.
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June 1st, about the time summer is starting anyway.
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You may well be Somarium's first big star!
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That could be fun. Another item on our growing list of Things To Do For The Sake Of Being Out Of The Apartments?
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