Dream[02]
Warnings: Copious amounts of Aeris!head-canon \o/
Dream Effects: A tight feeling of longing and homesickness - but being unable to tell those feelings for what they are until after the whole affair is done and over with.
It was, Atsuro realised, a dream.
He realised this the moment after he walked through the door into a room he hadn't seen in a long time - a very long time. Five years maybe, give or take. He'd still been an elementary school student at the time.
But that wasn't why it was a dream.
(Even if the glow in the dark clock on the bedside dresser was a dead give-away, or the equally phosphorescent stars painted on the ceiling and walls just as much so. The carpet felt different under bare feet than the solid hardwood of his own room. The bed tucked up against the corner of the wall, the dark green covers, the nail that stuck out just above the desk where a Ultraman calendar had once hung but was now empty. Even if all that screamed "dream", that wasn't quite why.)
It was a dream simply because he knew it was a dream.
It was a dream, and it was night.
These, Atsuro realised, were facts.
The door opened behind him (he hadn't realised that it had been shut) and Atsuro whirled, stepping to the side to allow whoever it was through.
"...Kaa-san." It was under his breath, almost, as he blinked through the darkness.
He couldn't see clearly, not when he was peering around the door frame like this, but he couldn't help but wonder what she was doing in his room, at his bed. He hadn't seen her in so long - how was she doing? Did she know about the Lockdown? She was...probably worried.
The thought cast his eyes downward, before he glanced up again hurriedly, only to see that his mother was no longer in the room. Rather, he looked up in time to see her walk in again - this time, he followed.
"You must have been tired."
"Huh!?" Atsuro jumped back - she knew he was here? More importantly, she was talking to him? "N-not really, jus-"
"That's alright...just rest, for now."
"...Oh."
She sat at the edge of the bed, and this was when Atsuro noticed that the bed was occupied - strange, had there been someone there before? But there was a distinct lump under those familiar green covers, one that shifted as she ran fingers through his hair.
"'kaa-san..." he murmured, turning over to his other side.
She leaned down over him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Her warmth lingered above him, even though the California summer was bringing with it its own brand of dry heat that the fan was working hard to combat in the opposite corner of the room. Fingers brushed across his face, the touch soft despite the callouses.
"Is he asleep?"
It was his father's voice - he recognised it even through a sleep-hazed mind. Fingers clutched at the blanket tighter as something dangerously akin to tears prickled behind his eyelids. Asleep, he reminded himself, he was asleep.
The bed shifted as his mother stood, making a shushing sound as she walked over to his father. "He must be tired, dear," he heard her say in an undertone.
"What did he say?" He could hear the worry in his father's voice - he couldn't though, for the life of him, recall why.
"It's a big decision for a child. He's only seven after all - I'm sure he doesn't want to leave his friends." Leave his friends? What was she talking about...? He never did leave, did he? He ended up fighting tooth and nail to stay in Japan. But the veil of sleep was too strong for him to discern any further.
All he remembered was his father's voice, and a hat in the morning.
~*~*~
In the morning, he rolled out of bed, cursing soundly when he literally rolled out of bed, tangled in blankets and becoming good friends with the floor.
"Ughh..." he groaned, sitting up. Man, his head hurt. Pulling himself out of the blankets, Atsuro stood groggily, reaching automatically for his cellphone on the bedside table as he headed over to the doorway to flick on the lights.
For a moment, his eyes lingered on the family photo on the dresser opposite the foot of the bed - it'd been taken a few years ago in Kyoto, when both his parents had gotten time off work at the same time. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest.
It was, Atsuro realised, a feeling of "missing someone."
-----------------
[Waking up for real this time, Atsuro stared at the ceiling for a good minute or two as he tried to process what had just happened.
...Homesick, huh. Strange, because it'd been years since he'd really missed his parents being around all the time -
- and eventually, he reaches over to shut off the Dreamberry.]
Dream Effects: A tight feeling of longing and homesickness - but being unable to tell those feelings for what they are until after the whole affair is done and over with.
It was, Atsuro realised, a dream.
He realised this the moment after he walked through the door into a room he hadn't seen in a long time - a very long time. Five years maybe, give or take. He'd still been an elementary school student at the time.
But that wasn't why it was a dream.
(Even if the glow in the dark clock on the bedside dresser was a dead give-away, or the equally phosphorescent stars painted on the ceiling and walls just as much so. The carpet felt different under bare feet than the solid hardwood of his own room. The bed tucked up against the corner of the wall, the dark green covers, the nail that stuck out just above the desk where a Ultraman calendar had once hung but was now empty. Even if all that screamed "dream", that wasn't quite why.)
It was a dream simply because he knew it was a dream.
It was a dream, and it was night.
These, Atsuro realised, were facts.
The door opened behind him (he hadn't realised that it had been shut) and Atsuro whirled, stepping to the side to allow whoever it was through.
"...Kaa-san." It was under his breath, almost, as he blinked through the darkness.
He couldn't see clearly, not when he was peering around the door frame like this, but he couldn't help but wonder what she was doing in his room, at his bed. He hadn't seen her in so long - how was she doing? Did she know about the Lockdown? She was...probably worried.
The thought cast his eyes downward, before he glanced up again hurriedly, only to see that his mother was no longer in the room. Rather, he looked up in time to see her walk in again - this time, he followed.
"You must have been tired."
"Huh!?" Atsuro jumped back - she knew he was here? More importantly, she was talking to him? "N-not really, jus-"
"That's alright...just rest, for now."
"...Oh."
She sat at the edge of the bed, and this was when Atsuro noticed that the bed was occupied - strange, had there been someone there before? But there was a distinct lump under those familiar green covers, one that shifted as she ran fingers through his hair.
"'kaa-san..." he murmured, turning over to his other side.
She leaned down over him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Her warmth lingered above him, even though the California summer was bringing with it its own brand of dry heat that the fan was working hard to combat in the opposite corner of the room. Fingers brushed across his face, the touch soft despite the callouses.
"Is he asleep?"
It was his father's voice - he recognised it even through a sleep-hazed mind. Fingers clutched at the blanket tighter as something dangerously akin to tears prickled behind his eyelids. Asleep, he reminded himself, he was asleep.
The bed shifted as his mother stood, making a shushing sound as she walked over to his father. "He must be tired, dear," he heard her say in an undertone.
"What did he say?" He could hear the worry in his father's voice - he couldn't though, for the life of him, recall why.
"It's a big decision for a child. He's only seven after all - I'm sure he doesn't want to leave his friends." Leave his friends? What was she talking about...? He never did leave, did he? He ended up fighting tooth and nail to stay in Japan. But the veil of sleep was too strong for him to discern any further.
All he remembered was his father's voice, and a hat in the morning.
~*~*~
In the morning, he rolled out of bed, cursing soundly when he literally rolled out of bed, tangled in blankets and becoming good friends with the floor.
"Ughh..." he groaned, sitting up. Man, his head hurt. Pulling himself out of the blankets, Atsuro stood groggily, reaching automatically for his cellphone on the bedside table as he headed over to the doorway to flick on the lights.
For a moment, his eyes lingered on the family photo on the dresser opposite the foot of the bed - it'd been taken a few years ago in Kyoto, when both his parents had gotten time off work at the same time. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest.
It was, Atsuro realised, a feeling of "missing someone."
-----------------
[Waking up for real this time, Atsuro stared at the ceiling for a good minute or two as he tried to process what had just happened.
...Homesick, huh. Strange, because it'd been years since he'd really missed his parents being around all the time -
- and eventually, he reaches over to shut off the Dreamberry.]