18. dream - nisaki
Title: Paper Cup
Author: jibunnohana
Theme: 18. dream
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ni~ya x Sakito (Nightmare)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: I guess it's a bit long for a one-shot. Meh.
All Sakito wanted of life was something to do. To clarify: something to do that didn’t involve high-society dinner parties, friends with more money than things to spend it on, or nightly pointless games of cards with vapid aristocrats. The son of old money, he spent idle days reading about the tantalizing adventures he knew he would never have. Most days his thoughts ranged from wishing he had taken that scholarship to the nearby university even though his father scoffed at the idea, and wondering if it would hurt much to jump headfirst out of the second story window. Then he would remember how his father would probably lecture that they were lucky to even have a second story window compared to the majority of the population, that most had to work for a living instead of being handed everything on a silver platter, at which point Sakito would sink even further into his gloomy thoughts of boredom and idleness.
One morning, Sakito woke early, even earlier than his valet, to a gorgeous burst of sunrise through the shutters he had forgotten to close the previous night. He smiled drowsily at the sun, half dreaming that he wasn’t at home at all, but greeting the day from an open Bedouin tent in the exotic deserts. Unfortunately, he rolled over and caught sight of the same old ornately drab bureau he had been waking up to for his entire life. “Good morning, old thing. Another wonderful day to be full of nothing, is it?” he muttered at the dresser, pulling the blankets over his head with a groan.
Hiding from the day, Sakito fingered the antique pendant around his neck as he did every morning, feeling the warm, tarnished gold chain slid easily between his thumb and index finger. His eyes burned as he thought of the previous wearer of that necklace, his mother, a woman a bright and beautiful as the sunrise outside. She always wore the pendant, and played with it coyly to attract her young son’s attention for yet another fantastic story about its origin. After her death, Sakito couldn’t bear to be parted from the necklace, having only taken it off once since then, to fix the clasp. Throwing off the covers, Sakito tumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he pulled open the drawers on his dresser, hunting for the simplest clothing he could find, determined to get out of the house and make the day worthwhile before anyone tried to stop him. Being of a high social tier didn’t afford much in the way of ordinary clothes, but Sakito managed to pull together a few garments he hoped would help him blend in with the common people.
“You look…ridiculous,” he told his reflection, grinning and admiring his handiwork in the full-length mirror. The statement certainly had some truth to it - with his smooth, pale skin and well-groomed hair, the slightly-too-short pants and old shirt left un-tucked gave him an awkward, unfinished appearance. As a finishing touch, he tried tying a long scrap of plain fabric loosely around his neck, mostly to try and hide the gold necklace from unwanted gazes. Another glance in the mirror sent him in a fit of laughter, covering his mouth with one hand to keep from waking the rest of the house. “Now you look French,” Sakito added, flicking back one side of the makeshift scarf and turning with a flourish.
Sneaking out the backdoor was much easier than he expected it to be. For once the floorboards didn’t creak, the doors didn’t stick, and hinges didn’t squeal like they usually did in the summer. He often wonder what the point of having such a fancy house was when the fixtures were often as finicky as the weather. Despite the wonder of sneaking into the yard without a sound, Sakito didn’t stop to think on it long, wanting to get as far away as possible before the servants noticed he was gone and came looking for him. The garden wall was the only thing now standing in the way of temporary freedom, and he struggled over it as quickly as possible into the alley beyond, skinning his knuckles painfully in the process, silently cursing the cook for never leaving the back gate unlocked. (This was, of course, not the first time Sakito had tried to sneak out on his own, but thus far appeared to be the only successful effort.) The alley was thankfully deserted, home only to a few broken garden tools and a stray cat, so Sakito scurried cautiously toward the main street, intersection visible at the end of the alley. Emerging onto it, he turned a random direction - it didn’t matter much to him which was it was as long as the road took him farther away from his house.
Several blocks passed without much of interest, although most of the people Sakito came across were headed in the same direction he was. Surely they must be on their way somewhere, he thought, and decided to continue in that direction. Soon enough, another turn revealed the bustle of the daily early morning market, with farmers and other tradesmen peddling their wares to a multitude of shoppers. Without a second though, Sakito plunged into the crowd and was soon thoroughly enjoying the sights and smells of the market, some of them familiar and others entirely new. Having tossed a few coins in his pocket on the way out the door, Sakito soon had his hands full of fresh fruit for breakfast. While the daily market wasn’t by far the most exciting entertainment he could have found, it certainly was enjoyable, he just hoped to avoid running into the family cook who was sure to be there soon, if not already.
Happily full, Sakito strolled along, eventually coming to the end of the road where the vendors stopped. The very last space today happened to be occupied by an old woman, sitting crossed-legged with her hawkish nose raised slightly to the sky as she examined the face of a man sitting across from her. The man had his hand resting palm up in her own, and the old woman’s sharp features turned downward quickly to look at the hand. Her voice crackled with age as she spoke, telling the man of his fortunes and downfalls though she had no knowledge of his life. Stopping to watch, awed by the old palm reader’s talent, Sakito fingered his necklace absently, as he often did when concentrating. The reading only lasted a couple of minutes, but the man looked completely convinced and handed her payment, walking away, shaking his head in disbelief. Immediately after he left the woman scrutinized her payment carefully, pocketing all but one coin, which she tossed toward a small cluster of men standing against the wall of a building behind her.
“Here, go buy yourselves some breakfast, you worthless rats,” she squawked, and two of them set upon the fallen money like vultures. The third, a striking figure with raven black hair falling nonchalantly over one eye, stayed where he was. Looking up, this man gave Sakito a half-smile, glancing down again at the others with something akin to contempt and sympathy, taking a drag of the crumpled cigarette held between long fingers.
“You act like you’ve never seen a gypsy before, young sir,” the old fortune-teller’s creaking voice reached Sakito’s ears, catching him a bit off guard.
“Er…well, I haven’t really….”
The spark of malicious glee in the woman’s eye should have been a warning to Sakito, but he was too curious to notice. “Then sit down and indulge an old woman in her prophecies for a while. What would you like to know?”
Not knowing what else to do, Sakito found himself seated on the blanket with the gypsy woman, stretching out his palm hesitantly. “I don’t know…what can you tell me?”
She cackled. “Anything for a price! How about love? That’s a popular one.”
“Oh…sure.” Sakito handed her the remaining coins from his pocket, excited and nervous for what he might hear from her wrinkled lips.
Jerking his hand forward, she hummed and traced the creases in his palm, closing her eyes and smiling periodically as she made her show. “You have the potential for very deep ties of love, sir, but you should be careful not too fall to easily.” Without warning, the fortune-teller clasped her hands around the back of Sakito’s neck, drawing him forward to look into her yellowed eyes that now appeared to be damp with tears. “Yes, you will find love, but you will loose it just as easily.”
Appalled by the sudden closeness and pungent smell of her breath, Sakito struggled out of her grasp, reaching up to adjust the scarf around his neck, tugging it into place before his fingers automatically slipped down to touch his mother’s necklace for comfort. Instead of the cool metal, his fingers found only bare skin and he patted his chest frantically with wide eyes for the piece of jewelry.
“Something the matter, sir?”
“Yes…my necklace…. It was here around my neck and now it’s….” The truth dawned on Sakito with unpleasant certainty. “You took it….”
“I did no such thing!” The old woman had the audacity to look scandalized, though there was no other place the necklace could have gone. “You are out of line, sir.”
“But I know I was wearing it before I sat down and then you had your hands around my neck. Please give it back,” Sakito’s voice trembled faintly when he spoke, the idea of his most precious possession falling into the hands of this tramp tearing at his soul.
Unexpectedly, the black-haired man added his voice to the argument, “For god’s sake, just give him back the necklace, you old fraud. I saw you take the damn thing.”
“Bugger off, Niya. You must be as blind as you are stupid.” She turned back to Sakito, eyes narrowed dangerously. “You shouldn’t accuse me of stealing, young man.”
The one she called Niya rolled his eyes and went back to leaning against the wall, smoking. Realizing he would receive no more help from him, Sakito got shakily to his feet and turned to leave. “Forget it,” he replied softly, taking heavy steps away from the old gypsy woman and her lies.
***
Sakito plodded down the street, every heavy footfall bringing him aimlessly farther away from the market in the general direction of home. While the loss of his mother’s necklace wasn’t directly his fault, he couldn’t help but feel a crushing guilt settling on his heart. He had determined the best course of action was to tell his father, who would at least make a serious effort to get it back, though he would be likely be raving mad at Sakito for sneaking out and associating with gypsies. Perhaps he was right - perhaps the boring, comfortable life of aristocracy was the best sort of life, however mind-numbingly uninteresting it was. Sakito’s confused thoughts ran exhausting circles around his brain yet again, and with an unhappy sigh sat down on the edge of a small fountain to rest. The world moved by without regard for the skinny brunette watching dully from his seat, elbows resting on his knees and chin pressed against the palms of his hands. However hard he tried to push back the unwanted memories and emotions threatening to overcome him, the effort only weakened his defenses and Sakito found himself roughly trying to rub away the prickling sting along the rims of his eyes with one hand. It wasn’t right for a man his age to be crying in public, after all.
“You look as gloomy as a storm cloud,” a deep voice commented sympathetically beside him, causing Sakito to twitch in surprise. Turning to look at the newcomer, Sakito’s eyes settled on the dark-haired man he had seen at the fortune-teller’s booth. He was leaning with one elbow against the side of the fountain, watching him with a mild expression.
“Where did you come from?” Sakito couldn’t help being suspicious of Niya and his intentions, not knowing what they were. His voice wavered at the end of the inquiry, nervous and a little scratchy from fighting off tears.
“I followed you,” Niya answered simply, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fresh cigarette paper, although instead of rolling tobacco in it, he folded the thin material deftly into a small paper cup, dipping it into the fresh water bubbling from the fountain. “Here, you sound a little scratchy.”
Sakito took the flimsy cup, feeling more dazed by the minute. First the thrill of escaping into the city alone, then the trauma of being robbed of the one thing he really cared about, and now this complete stranger offering him a moment of unlooked for kindness. He brought the paper cup to his lips and took a few sips of the wonderfully cool water, but the liquid began dripping, then leaking out in rivulets from the folds in the paper. “Oh…”
Smiling apologetically, Niya took the cup out of his hand and crumpled it. “That always seems to happen.”
“It’s still very clever.” Sakito couldn’t help notice the way the stranger’s eyes seemed to sparkle infectiously when he smiled, and he found himself offering his own tiny smile in return.
“If you like that, this one is even better.” Reaching for another paper, Niya’s quick fingers soon coaxed an elegant bird out of the plain sheet, holding it up for the other to see, then unfolding it and changing the design to a flower. Charmed, Sakito watched Niya create other wonderful things out of the unassuming cigarette paper, chasing some of the gloom away.
Out of ideas, Niya stopped and smoothed the paper out against the stone lip of the fountain, slipping it back into his pocket, turning to study Sakito’s face carefully and frowning when he noticed the other wasn’t as cheered as he’d hoped. “That necklace must have meant a lot to you.”
“Yes…it was my mother’s. She died when I was eleven,” Sakito replied softly, plucking at the hem of his shirt.
“That old witch steals from her customers constantly. You just happened to notice right away - most people don’t until it’s long gone,” Niya said, his frown deepening. “I can get it back for you, if you want.”
Hardly daring to breathe lest this sudden good fortune be blown away, Sakito turned with wide eyes. “…You would do that for me?” There had to be a catch, he thought to himself. From what he had heard about gypsies, they didn’t tend to thrive on good deeds. Even so, Sakito was willing to do just about anything to have his pendant back safely around his neck.
“Sure, the old lady is more bark than bite. It won’t be a problem.” Niya smiled, flicking his wayward hair away from his face as it started to cover both eyes.
“Thank you…”
“We’re camped just outside the city limits. Meet me there tonight and I’ll have your necklace for you.” Niya stopped and thought for a moment. “What’s your name? I don’t think you mentioned it.”
“Ah…Sakito. I heard the old lady call you Niya.”
“Niya’s good enough,” the dark-haired man answered, rolling a cigarette and searching his pocket for a match while changing the subject. “I’m a little surprised to meet someone like you at an early market.”
Taken aback by Niya’s comment, Sakito tried to think of a snippy reply, but he glanced at the other’s face and deflated instantly when he realized it hadn’t been meant as an insult at all. “Is my disguise that bad?”
Niya lit his cigarette and smiled, “Most commoners have at least a few scuffs on their shoes.” He pointed at his own worn boots for emphasis. Sheepishly, Sakito stuck out his feet and examined the expensive shoes, still free of marks and scratches.
“They’re new,” he mumbled, turning slightly pink around the ears.
With a friendly chuckle, Niya pushed himself away from the fountain and turned back the way he had come. “I have to get back. See you tonight.” He stuck a hand in his pocket and walked away, leaving a trail of pale smoke and a nervous, but also a little bit excited, Sakito in his wake.
***
Sneaking out a second time that day was remarkably easy - so easy, in fact, that Sakito was almost suspicious. Fortunately, the household was still mostly asleep when he had returned from his market adventure that morning, and he gave his valet, the only one to notice the strange manner of his return, a small bonus to not mention it. Now the time was just after dark, and with the rest of the house otherwise occupied, he vaguely mentioned to no one in particular that he was going out with friends and left out the front door.
Outside, the air was balmy with a devilish breeze that tugged at Sakito’s hair, moving soft brown strands frustratingly across his face no matter how many times he tried to push it back. Above, the moon shone with an orange tint against the deep velvet sky, blotting out the starts lest they try to outshine it. Despite the danger of running into someone he knew, Sakito stopped on a street corner to admire the moon and try to collect his scattered thoughts. He had spent the day listlessly, unable to concentrate on a single task or idea, but instead found himself caught between two daydreams, one of the necklace and his mother and the other of the dark-haired gypsy he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. The latter was an unasked for thought, and it frustrated Sakito to no end that one person he barely knew could leave such a strong, but confusing impression.
Sakito continued on his way having no luck organizing his brain except to firmly decide that he was only emotional due to the loss of the necklace, which would be cleared up shortly. It wasn’t long before the closely packed buildings of the downtown area gave way to shabbier houses, and finally the local farm that had managed to hang on despite all the new development crept into view. Just beyond the farm, several fires flickered like enormous fireflies, pinpointing the spot that must be where the gypsies were camped. As Sakito neared the site, the boldness and resolution that had driven him thus far wavered, and his stride slowed considerable the closer he came to the camp. The thought had crossed his mind more than once that Niya might be lying to him, and had a malicious ulterior motive for asking him here. Having lived a fairly sheltered life, Sakito had only vague notions of what to expect from gypsies, most of them from stories heard in childhood that were likely created to scare young boys into behaving. He didn’t honestly believe that gypsies ate other people. How absurd.
Plucking up the nerve to approach the camp, Sakito crept forward again, timidly avoiding the startled gazes of two weathered women sitting on the farm’s outermost fence. For the most part others he passed seemed to ignore his presence, save for a small cluster of people consisting of an elderly man and the two money chasers he recognized from that morning. They stared much like the fence women, although there was something decidedly unfriendly behind their curious eyes. When none of the three offered a greeting, Sakito nervously ventured a ‘hello’, shifting his weight uncomfortably between feet.
“What do you want?” the old man grudgingly answered, his voice gravelly and strained, laced with blatant mistrust. “We ain’t doing nothin’ wrong. Farmer said we could camp here.”
Obviously, the old man mistook Sakito for some kind of city official with his nice clothes and shoes. When he answered, his voice was much weaker than he would have liked; the old man was more likely to cooperate with a lion than a mouse. “Niya asked me to meet him here.”
The old man raised a bushy eyebrow and studied Sakito silently. One of the two younger men leered toothily at him, while the elder turned and bellowed behind him, “NIYA, YOU GOT A VISITOR.” The sudden change in volume made Sakito jump involuntarily, and again when the subject in question appeared near his shoulder.
“You don’t have to shout, I’m right here,” Niya responded crossly. Recovering some composure, Sakito gave him a feeble wave and sidled a bit closer, feeling far more comfortable around Niya than the other occupants of the camp.
“Another of your conquests, Ni?” The leering man’s grin widened, and he wiggled his eyebrows. “We’ve only been here one night, that must be a record.”
Sakito at first did not quite understand what the exchange was implying, and in the pause that followed the man’s comment he pieced together the meaning. He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Niya’s scathing reply.
“And the last time you got anyone into bed was…?” He paused while the man’s leer contorted into indignation. “My ‘conquests’ are none of your concern.”
Turning sharply on his heel, Niya grabbed Sakito’s arm and pulled him away from the three men, leaving them in various stages of anger and disappointment. They stopped in a more secluded area, and Sakito found himself being guided to over to a tree stump to sit. He was glad of the dark, as he was quite sure his face must be beet red with embarrassment. Niya sat cross-legged on the ground next to him, face briefly illuminated by the match he used to light one of his cigarettes. “Sorry about that…. I meant to meet you farther out on the road so you wouldn’t run into those two.”
“That’s alright,” Sakito breathed, trying to calm himself. The heat was receding slowly from his cheeks, and he concentrated his attention on the cricket orchestra around them as it mixed with the playful music drifting over from near one of the fires. Though his thoughts were primarily on his necklace, Sakito decided the least he could do in thanks was have a little pleasant conversation with the gypsy man that had helped him so much. But what could he possible talk about that wouldn’t be a complete bore? Niya seemed so worldly, and Sakito’s own experience hardly extended past the city where he lived and grew up. “It must be so exciting to travel all the time.”
Niya puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette before answering. “I suppose it is. You get tired of constantly moving, though.”
“But seeing somewhere new almost every day! I would love that.”
Even in the dark, Sakito could see Niya’s knowing smile around the burning paper held close to his lips. “They all start to look the same after a while. I guess you don’t get out much.”
“Not really,” he replied unhappily. “I’ve been to see the ocean once, but that was a long time ago…when my mother was still alive.”
Niya must have noticed the sorrow and regret seeping into Sakito’s words. Standing, he held out a hand for the thin brunette to take. “Come get a drink with me. We may not have much, but at least there’s plenty of that.”
Hesitating briefly, Sakito decided it couldn’t do much harm, and let the gypsy pull him to his feet. They wandered toward the inviting blaze of the bonfire in silence, and Sakito was relieved to see neither the old fortune-teller nor the three men resting anywhere close by. Several women and a couple of men were dancing to the music he had heard from a distance, some of them obviously drunk. None of them seemed to take any interest in Sakito after a quick, curious glance, although one of the girls offered him a tipsy wave in greeting. Watching them dance was fascinating to the sheltered Sakito, and he stood absorbed until Niya pressed a chipped mug into his hand.
“Probably not as good as what you’re used to, but it has the same effect.” The gypsy had a cup of his own, and took a drink while he watched Sakito try to surreptitiously examine his own as if he expected the stuff to contain old fish heads or something equally as unsavory. Satisfied that nothing terribly unnatural lurked in his cup, he took a small sip followed by a big gulp as if it was the best thing he had ever tasted, and finished the whole drink quickly without so much as a pause for air. A hiccup escaped Sakito’s lips and he delicately dabbed the corners of his mouth with one hand, looking quite shocked with himself at having done such an uncivilized thing. His expression sent Niya into a short fit of laughter. “Well, you certainly seem to be able to hold your drink,” he managed between chuckles.
“There’s not much else to do in the city,” Sakito mumbled sheepishly.
Niya sobered and took the mug from Sakito’s hand, setting both items down on the ground. The gypsy folded one arm over his stomach and scratched his chin with the other, while Sakito fidgeted and looked at his feet under the steady gaze of Niya’s deep eyes. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Sakito looked up, surprise and bafflement written all over his features.
Hair having fallen across his face again, only one of Niya’s eyes was visible, but it sparkled playfully in the dim light. “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
“Well, yes…but not like this,” Sakito sputtered, gesturing vaguely toward the revelers still enjoying the music. Niya didn’t wait for him to continue, but took hold of his arm firmly and started to pull him closer to the musicians.
“After this I’ll give you the necklace back, I promise. Besides, aren’t you interested in the new and exciting?”
Before Sakito had a chance to protest further, he and Niya were caught up in the movements of the other dancers. When none of them appeared averse to his presence, he relaxed and made a valiant attempt to learn the steps, although mostly he just tripped over his own feet. Three more cups of wine and several songs later Sakito was genuinely having a better time with the gypsies than he had had in eons, and the necklace went temporarily forgotten. If Niya had planned to make him loose track of his original purpose coming here, it was working and Sakito didn’t particularly care. His new friend picked him up as easily as if he were a child, swinging him around until his already fuzzy head felt light enough to float away and he wasn’t sure if he was spinning or the rest of the world was over Niya’s shoulder. The gypsy set him back on his feet, but Sakito let his arms linger around the other’s neck, balance being only half his reason for doing so. Niya kept an arm around his waist and, though in the back of Sakito’s mind he remembered that public affection was supposed to go against proper etiquette, their pose didn’t feel at all out of place here, on the edge of the open world.
The music started again, and the two were drawn back into the festivities, continuing on far into the night. Eventually, the musicians grew tired and the dancers gave up, gathering loosely around the flickering remains of the fire to laugh and drink. Sakito sat slightly apart from the rest, nursing a partially full mug and staring up at the now visible stars with sleepy eyes. He could see Niya not far away, where the gypsy had been beckoned over to share a laugh with his traveling companions, promising his guest that he wouldn’t be long. Home seemed so distant and though he had wished for so long that this opportunity would come, a faint shiver shook up and down his spine as he turned to look into the empty black of fields beyond the camp. Sakito felt rather than saw Niya join him, the warmth of another human body driving away the unplaced fear that had threatened to take over his thoughts.
“It’s almost dawn,” Niya remarked quietly. Though he didn’t say so aloud, the tone implied that it was much too late and Sakito was far from home. When he received only a leaden silence in reply, the gypsy curled his arm around Sakito’s narrow back, supporting him when he leaned unexpectedly into the embrace. Why Sakito trusted Niya, though some of his first encounters with gypsies were highly unpleasant, he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps Sakito was just a trusting soul, or perhaps there was something virtuous behind those mischievous eyes, despite contrary evidence against his people as a whole.
Sakito tilted his head trying to see Niya’s face, but at that angle all he could see was the other’s jaw. Previously unoccupied, the gypsy’s right hand reach across to touch Sakito’s cheek, drawing him close enough to tuck under his chin, while the wayward hand continued to explore elegant features with gentle caresses. The gypsy’s hands were rough, Sakito thought, but he didn’t mind in the least. A calloused thumb caught slightly against the delicate skin of his lips, to be withdrawn a moment later and replaced by Niya’s own mouth as he shifted Sakito upright away from his shoulder. Supple lips against his own and strong hands carefully cupping his face, turned out to be far more intoxicating to Sakito than all the wine he had ingested that night. He placed his hands firmly against Niya’s chest, but only to feel the steady thumping of his heart rather than to push him away.
Niya drew back, but with more confidence than he knew he possessed, Sakito followed, nibbling at the gypsy’s lower lip until he was kissed again. Tired from the late hour and the sudden rush of emotion that pushed the two into each other’s arms, Sakito slowly broke away, lingering close with his nose and forehead resting against Niya’s cheek. He waited for the blood to stop pounding in his ears before speaking. “Take me with you. Please, take me with you.” The voice reaching Niya’s ears was soft and pleading, coupled with slender hands kneading desperately against the fabric of his shirt.
When the gypsy didn’t answer, Sakito curled up against him, letting his heavy head fall to Niya’s shoulder. Drunken exhaustion set in, and within minutes he was soundly asleep.
***
Morning poured in through the open window, lackluster and smelling of rain. The pale, gray light barely illuminated the far wall of the room, where Sakito’s bed stood. Its owner’s body barely made a lump under the heavy blankets that covered him, the only evidence that the bed was occupied by a human presence at all being a bit of brown hair splayed over the pillow and the tips of his fingers curled around the edge of the bedding. On dreary mornings like this, Sakito never cared for getting out of bed, and he was feeling especially lethargic that day. Every one of his limbs was as heavy as a bag of bricks. The more conscious he became, the more he felt as if all his insides had been replaced with stones while he slept. Grasping the edge of the duvet, Sakito pulled it down enough to peek over the top, squinting at the window. Snatches of the day before flitted through his memory, never lingering long enough for him to stop and examine them. The fortune-teller, the gypsy camp, dancing, his necklace, Niya… All those things seemed so far away, like a dream you can’t quite recall.
Reaching up, Sakito absently felt for the necklace, finding it safely in its usual place around neck. Part of him wanted it to still be missing, although the chain sliding between his fingers was comfortingly familiar. At least if it had been gone, he would know that yesterday had been real. One scene in particular appeared clearer than the others; Sakito touched his lips and if he closed his eyes he could almost feel Niya kissing him all over again. Sighing, he rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head, one hand still clutched around the gold pendant. A dream. That’s all it was. Just a dream…
Author: jibunnohana
Theme: 18. dream
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ni~ya x Sakito (Nightmare)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: I guess it's a bit long for a one-shot. Meh.
All Sakito wanted of life was something to do. To clarify: something to do that didn’t involve high-society dinner parties, friends with more money than things to spend it on, or nightly pointless games of cards with vapid aristocrats. The son of old money, he spent idle days reading about the tantalizing adventures he knew he would never have. Most days his thoughts ranged from wishing he had taken that scholarship to the nearby university even though his father scoffed at the idea, and wondering if it would hurt much to jump headfirst out of the second story window. Then he would remember how his father would probably lecture that they were lucky to even have a second story window compared to the majority of the population, that most had to work for a living instead of being handed everything on a silver platter, at which point Sakito would sink even further into his gloomy thoughts of boredom and idleness.
One morning, Sakito woke early, even earlier than his valet, to a gorgeous burst of sunrise through the shutters he had forgotten to close the previous night. He smiled drowsily at the sun, half dreaming that he wasn’t at home at all, but greeting the day from an open Bedouin tent in the exotic deserts. Unfortunately, he rolled over and caught sight of the same old ornately drab bureau he had been waking up to for his entire life. “Good morning, old thing. Another wonderful day to be full of nothing, is it?” he muttered at the dresser, pulling the blankets over his head with a groan.
Hiding from the day, Sakito fingered the antique pendant around his neck as he did every morning, feeling the warm, tarnished gold chain slid easily between his thumb and index finger. His eyes burned as he thought of the previous wearer of that necklace, his mother, a woman a bright and beautiful as the sunrise outside. She always wore the pendant, and played with it coyly to attract her young son’s attention for yet another fantastic story about its origin. After her death, Sakito couldn’t bear to be parted from the necklace, having only taken it off once since then, to fix the clasp. Throwing off the covers, Sakito tumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he pulled open the drawers on his dresser, hunting for the simplest clothing he could find, determined to get out of the house and make the day worthwhile before anyone tried to stop him. Being of a high social tier didn’t afford much in the way of ordinary clothes, but Sakito managed to pull together a few garments he hoped would help him blend in with the common people.
“You look…ridiculous,” he told his reflection, grinning and admiring his handiwork in the full-length mirror. The statement certainly had some truth to it - with his smooth, pale skin and well-groomed hair, the slightly-too-short pants and old shirt left un-tucked gave him an awkward, unfinished appearance. As a finishing touch, he tried tying a long scrap of plain fabric loosely around his neck, mostly to try and hide the gold necklace from unwanted gazes. Another glance in the mirror sent him in a fit of laughter, covering his mouth with one hand to keep from waking the rest of the house. “Now you look French,” Sakito added, flicking back one side of the makeshift scarf and turning with a flourish.
Sneaking out the backdoor was much easier than he expected it to be. For once the floorboards didn’t creak, the doors didn’t stick, and hinges didn’t squeal like they usually did in the summer. He often wonder what the point of having such a fancy house was when the fixtures were often as finicky as the weather. Despite the wonder of sneaking into the yard without a sound, Sakito didn’t stop to think on it long, wanting to get as far away as possible before the servants noticed he was gone and came looking for him. The garden wall was the only thing now standing in the way of temporary freedom, and he struggled over it as quickly as possible into the alley beyond, skinning his knuckles painfully in the process, silently cursing the cook for never leaving the back gate unlocked. (This was, of course, not the first time Sakito had tried to sneak out on his own, but thus far appeared to be the only successful effort.) The alley was thankfully deserted, home only to a few broken garden tools and a stray cat, so Sakito scurried cautiously toward the main street, intersection visible at the end of the alley. Emerging onto it, he turned a random direction - it didn’t matter much to him which was it was as long as the road took him farther away from his house.
Several blocks passed without much of interest, although most of the people Sakito came across were headed in the same direction he was. Surely they must be on their way somewhere, he thought, and decided to continue in that direction. Soon enough, another turn revealed the bustle of the daily early morning market, with farmers and other tradesmen peddling their wares to a multitude of shoppers. Without a second though, Sakito plunged into the crowd and was soon thoroughly enjoying the sights and smells of the market, some of them familiar and others entirely new. Having tossed a few coins in his pocket on the way out the door, Sakito soon had his hands full of fresh fruit for breakfast. While the daily market wasn’t by far the most exciting entertainment he could have found, it certainly was enjoyable, he just hoped to avoid running into the family cook who was sure to be there soon, if not already.
Happily full, Sakito strolled along, eventually coming to the end of the road where the vendors stopped. The very last space today happened to be occupied by an old woman, sitting crossed-legged with her hawkish nose raised slightly to the sky as she examined the face of a man sitting across from her. The man had his hand resting palm up in her own, and the old woman’s sharp features turned downward quickly to look at the hand. Her voice crackled with age as she spoke, telling the man of his fortunes and downfalls though she had no knowledge of his life. Stopping to watch, awed by the old palm reader’s talent, Sakito fingered his necklace absently, as he often did when concentrating. The reading only lasted a couple of minutes, but the man looked completely convinced and handed her payment, walking away, shaking his head in disbelief. Immediately after he left the woman scrutinized her payment carefully, pocketing all but one coin, which she tossed toward a small cluster of men standing against the wall of a building behind her.
“Here, go buy yourselves some breakfast, you worthless rats,” she squawked, and two of them set upon the fallen money like vultures. The third, a striking figure with raven black hair falling nonchalantly over one eye, stayed where he was. Looking up, this man gave Sakito a half-smile, glancing down again at the others with something akin to contempt and sympathy, taking a drag of the crumpled cigarette held between long fingers.
“You act like you’ve never seen a gypsy before, young sir,” the old fortune-teller’s creaking voice reached Sakito’s ears, catching him a bit off guard.
“Er…well, I haven’t really….”
The spark of malicious glee in the woman’s eye should have been a warning to Sakito, but he was too curious to notice. “Then sit down and indulge an old woman in her prophecies for a while. What would you like to know?”
Not knowing what else to do, Sakito found himself seated on the blanket with the gypsy woman, stretching out his palm hesitantly. “I don’t know…what can you tell me?”
She cackled. “Anything for a price! How about love? That’s a popular one.”
“Oh…sure.” Sakito handed her the remaining coins from his pocket, excited and nervous for what he might hear from her wrinkled lips.
Jerking his hand forward, she hummed and traced the creases in his palm, closing her eyes and smiling periodically as she made her show. “You have the potential for very deep ties of love, sir, but you should be careful not too fall to easily.” Without warning, the fortune-teller clasped her hands around the back of Sakito’s neck, drawing him forward to look into her yellowed eyes that now appeared to be damp with tears. “Yes, you will find love, but you will loose it just as easily.”
Appalled by the sudden closeness and pungent smell of her breath, Sakito struggled out of her grasp, reaching up to adjust the scarf around his neck, tugging it into place before his fingers automatically slipped down to touch his mother’s necklace for comfort. Instead of the cool metal, his fingers found only bare skin and he patted his chest frantically with wide eyes for the piece of jewelry.
“Something the matter, sir?”
“Yes…my necklace…. It was here around my neck and now it’s….” The truth dawned on Sakito with unpleasant certainty. “You took it….”
“I did no such thing!” The old woman had the audacity to look scandalized, though there was no other place the necklace could have gone. “You are out of line, sir.”
“But I know I was wearing it before I sat down and then you had your hands around my neck. Please give it back,” Sakito’s voice trembled faintly when he spoke, the idea of his most precious possession falling into the hands of this tramp tearing at his soul.
Unexpectedly, the black-haired man added his voice to the argument, “For god’s sake, just give him back the necklace, you old fraud. I saw you take the damn thing.”
“Bugger off, Niya. You must be as blind as you are stupid.” She turned back to Sakito, eyes narrowed dangerously. “You shouldn’t accuse me of stealing, young man.”
The one she called Niya rolled his eyes and went back to leaning against the wall, smoking. Realizing he would receive no more help from him, Sakito got shakily to his feet and turned to leave. “Forget it,” he replied softly, taking heavy steps away from the old gypsy woman and her lies.
***
Sakito plodded down the street, every heavy footfall bringing him aimlessly farther away from the market in the general direction of home. While the loss of his mother’s necklace wasn’t directly his fault, he couldn’t help but feel a crushing guilt settling on his heart. He had determined the best course of action was to tell his father, who would at least make a serious effort to get it back, though he would be likely be raving mad at Sakito for sneaking out and associating with gypsies. Perhaps he was right - perhaps the boring, comfortable life of aristocracy was the best sort of life, however mind-numbingly uninteresting it was. Sakito’s confused thoughts ran exhausting circles around his brain yet again, and with an unhappy sigh sat down on the edge of a small fountain to rest. The world moved by without regard for the skinny brunette watching dully from his seat, elbows resting on his knees and chin pressed against the palms of his hands. However hard he tried to push back the unwanted memories and emotions threatening to overcome him, the effort only weakened his defenses and Sakito found himself roughly trying to rub away the prickling sting along the rims of his eyes with one hand. It wasn’t right for a man his age to be crying in public, after all.
“You look as gloomy as a storm cloud,” a deep voice commented sympathetically beside him, causing Sakito to twitch in surprise. Turning to look at the newcomer, Sakito’s eyes settled on the dark-haired man he had seen at the fortune-teller’s booth. He was leaning with one elbow against the side of the fountain, watching him with a mild expression.
“Where did you come from?” Sakito couldn’t help being suspicious of Niya and his intentions, not knowing what they were. His voice wavered at the end of the inquiry, nervous and a little scratchy from fighting off tears.
“I followed you,” Niya answered simply, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fresh cigarette paper, although instead of rolling tobacco in it, he folded the thin material deftly into a small paper cup, dipping it into the fresh water bubbling from the fountain. “Here, you sound a little scratchy.”
Sakito took the flimsy cup, feeling more dazed by the minute. First the thrill of escaping into the city alone, then the trauma of being robbed of the one thing he really cared about, and now this complete stranger offering him a moment of unlooked for kindness. He brought the paper cup to his lips and took a few sips of the wonderfully cool water, but the liquid began dripping, then leaking out in rivulets from the folds in the paper. “Oh…”
Smiling apologetically, Niya took the cup out of his hand and crumpled it. “That always seems to happen.”
“It’s still very clever.” Sakito couldn’t help notice the way the stranger’s eyes seemed to sparkle infectiously when he smiled, and he found himself offering his own tiny smile in return.
“If you like that, this one is even better.” Reaching for another paper, Niya’s quick fingers soon coaxed an elegant bird out of the plain sheet, holding it up for the other to see, then unfolding it and changing the design to a flower. Charmed, Sakito watched Niya create other wonderful things out of the unassuming cigarette paper, chasing some of the gloom away.
Out of ideas, Niya stopped and smoothed the paper out against the stone lip of the fountain, slipping it back into his pocket, turning to study Sakito’s face carefully and frowning when he noticed the other wasn’t as cheered as he’d hoped. “That necklace must have meant a lot to you.”
“Yes…it was my mother’s. She died when I was eleven,” Sakito replied softly, plucking at the hem of his shirt.
“That old witch steals from her customers constantly. You just happened to notice right away - most people don’t until it’s long gone,” Niya said, his frown deepening. “I can get it back for you, if you want.”
Hardly daring to breathe lest this sudden good fortune be blown away, Sakito turned with wide eyes. “…You would do that for me?” There had to be a catch, he thought to himself. From what he had heard about gypsies, they didn’t tend to thrive on good deeds. Even so, Sakito was willing to do just about anything to have his pendant back safely around his neck.
“Sure, the old lady is more bark than bite. It won’t be a problem.” Niya smiled, flicking his wayward hair away from his face as it started to cover both eyes.
“Thank you…”
“We’re camped just outside the city limits. Meet me there tonight and I’ll have your necklace for you.” Niya stopped and thought for a moment. “What’s your name? I don’t think you mentioned it.”
“Ah…Sakito. I heard the old lady call you Niya.”
“Niya’s good enough,” the dark-haired man answered, rolling a cigarette and searching his pocket for a match while changing the subject. “I’m a little surprised to meet someone like you at an early market.”
Taken aback by Niya’s comment, Sakito tried to think of a snippy reply, but he glanced at the other’s face and deflated instantly when he realized it hadn’t been meant as an insult at all. “Is my disguise that bad?”
Niya lit his cigarette and smiled, “Most commoners have at least a few scuffs on their shoes.” He pointed at his own worn boots for emphasis. Sheepishly, Sakito stuck out his feet and examined the expensive shoes, still free of marks and scratches.
“They’re new,” he mumbled, turning slightly pink around the ears.
With a friendly chuckle, Niya pushed himself away from the fountain and turned back the way he had come. “I have to get back. See you tonight.” He stuck a hand in his pocket and walked away, leaving a trail of pale smoke and a nervous, but also a little bit excited, Sakito in his wake.
***
Sneaking out a second time that day was remarkably easy - so easy, in fact, that Sakito was almost suspicious. Fortunately, the household was still mostly asleep when he had returned from his market adventure that morning, and he gave his valet, the only one to notice the strange manner of his return, a small bonus to not mention it. Now the time was just after dark, and with the rest of the house otherwise occupied, he vaguely mentioned to no one in particular that he was going out with friends and left out the front door.
Outside, the air was balmy with a devilish breeze that tugged at Sakito’s hair, moving soft brown strands frustratingly across his face no matter how many times he tried to push it back. Above, the moon shone with an orange tint against the deep velvet sky, blotting out the starts lest they try to outshine it. Despite the danger of running into someone he knew, Sakito stopped on a street corner to admire the moon and try to collect his scattered thoughts. He had spent the day listlessly, unable to concentrate on a single task or idea, but instead found himself caught between two daydreams, one of the necklace and his mother and the other of the dark-haired gypsy he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. The latter was an unasked for thought, and it frustrated Sakito to no end that one person he barely knew could leave such a strong, but confusing impression.
Sakito continued on his way having no luck organizing his brain except to firmly decide that he was only emotional due to the loss of the necklace, which would be cleared up shortly. It wasn’t long before the closely packed buildings of the downtown area gave way to shabbier houses, and finally the local farm that had managed to hang on despite all the new development crept into view. Just beyond the farm, several fires flickered like enormous fireflies, pinpointing the spot that must be where the gypsies were camped. As Sakito neared the site, the boldness and resolution that had driven him thus far wavered, and his stride slowed considerable the closer he came to the camp. The thought had crossed his mind more than once that Niya might be lying to him, and had a malicious ulterior motive for asking him here. Having lived a fairly sheltered life, Sakito had only vague notions of what to expect from gypsies, most of them from stories heard in childhood that were likely created to scare young boys into behaving. He didn’t honestly believe that gypsies ate other people. How absurd.
Plucking up the nerve to approach the camp, Sakito crept forward again, timidly avoiding the startled gazes of two weathered women sitting on the farm’s outermost fence. For the most part others he passed seemed to ignore his presence, save for a small cluster of people consisting of an elderly man and the two money chasers he recognized from that morning. They stared much like the fence women, although there was something decidedly unfriendly behind their curious eyes. When none of the three offered a greeting, Sakito nervously ventured a ‘hello’, shifting his weight uncomfortably between feet.
“What do you want?” the old man grudgingly answered, his voice gravelly and strained, laced with blatant mistrust. “We ain’t doing nothin’ wrong. Farmer said we could camp here.”
Obviously, the old man mistook Sakito for some kind of city official with his nice clothes and shoes. When he answered, his voice was much weaker than he would have liked; the old man was more likely to cooperate with a lion than a mouse. “Niya asked me to meet him here.”
The old man raised a bushy eyebrow and studied Sakito silently. One of the two younger men leered toothily at him, while the elder turned and bellowed behind him, “NIYA, YOU GOT A VISITOR.” The sudden change in volume made Sakito jump involuntarily, and again when the subject in question appeared near his shoulder.
“You don’t have to shout, I’m right here,” Niya responded crossly. Recovering some composure, Sakito gave him a feeble wave and sidled a bit closer, feeling far more comfortable around Niya than the other occupants of the camp.
“Another of your conquests, Ni?” The leering man’s grin widened, and he wiggled his eyebrows. “We’ve only been here one night, that must be a record.”
Sakito at first did not quite understand what the exchange was implying, and in the pause that followed the man’s comment he pieced together the meaning. He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Niya’s scathing reply.
“And the last time you got anyone into bed was…?” He paused while the man’s leer contorted into indignation. “My ‘conquests’ are none of your concern.”
Turning sharply on his heel, Niya grabbed Sakito’s arm and pulled him away from the three men, leaving them in various stages of anger and disappointment. They stopped in a more secluded area, and Sakito found himself being guided to over to a tree stump to sit. He was glad of the dark, as he was quite sure his face must be beet red with embarrassment. Niya sat cross-legged on the ground next to him, face briefly illuminated by the match he used to light one of his cigarettes. “Sorry about that…. I meant to meet you farther out on the road so you wouldn’t run into those two.”
“That’s alright,” Sakito breathed, trying to calm himself. The heat was receding slowly from his cheeks, and he concentrated his attention on the cricket orchestra around them as it mixed with the playful music drifting over from near one of the fires. Though his thoughts were primarily on his necklace, Sakito decided the least he could do in thanks was have a little pleasant conversation with the gypsy man that had helped him so much. But what could he possible talk about that wouldn’t be a complete bore? Niya seemed so worldly, and Sakito’s own experience hardly extended past the city where he lived and grew up. “It must be so exciting to travel all the time.”
Niya puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette before answering. “I suppose it is. You get tired of constantly moving, though.”
“But seeing somewhere new almost every day! I would love that.”
Even in the dark, Sakito could see Niya’s knowing smile around the burning paper held close to his lips. “They all start to look the same after a while. I guess you don’t get out much.”
“Not really,” he replied unhappily. “I’ve been to see the ocean once, but that was a long time ago…when my mother was still alive.”
Niya must have noticed the sorrow and regret seeping into Sakito’s words. Standing, he held out a hand for the thin brunette to take. “Come get a drink with me. We may not have much, but at least there’s plenty of that.”
Hesitating briefly, Sakito decided it couldn’t do much harm, and let the gypsy pull him to his feet. They wandered toward the inviting blaze of the bonfire in silence, and Sakito was relieved to see neither the old fortune-teller nor the three men resting anywhere close by. Several women and a couple of men were dancing to the music he had heard from a distance, some of them obviously drunk. None of them seemed to take any interest in Sakito after a quick, curious glance, although one of the girls offered him a tipsy wave in greeting. Watching them dance was fascinating to the sheltered Sakito, and he stood absorbed until Niya pressed a chipped mug into his hand.
“Probably not as good as what you’re used to, but it has the same effect.” The gypsy had a cup of his own, and took a drink while he watched Sakito try to surreptitiously examine his own as if he expected the stuff to contain old fish heads or something equally as unsavory. Satisfied that nothing terribly unnatural lurked in his cup, he took a small sip followed by a big gulp as if it was the best thing he had ever tasted, and finished the whole drink quickly without so much as a pause for air. A hiccup escaped Sakito’s lips and he delicately dabbed the corners of his mouth with one hand, looking quite shocked with himself at having done such an uncivilized thing. His expression sent Niya into a short fit of laughter. “Well, you certainly seem to be able to hold your drink,” he managed between chuckles.
“There’s not much else to do in the city,” Sakito mumbled sheepishly.
Niya sobered and took the mug from Sakito’s hand, setting both items down on the ground. The gypsy folded one arm over his stomach and scratched his chin with the other, while Sakito fidgeted and looked at his feet under the steady gaze of Niya’s deep eyes. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Sakito looked up, surprise and bafflement written all over his features.
Hair having fallen across his face again, only one of Niya’s eyes was visible, but it sparkled playfully in the dim light. “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
“Well, yes…but not like this,” Sakito sputtered, gesturing vaguely toward the revelers still enjoying the music. Niya didn’t wait for him to continue, but took hold of his arm firmly and started to pull him closer to the musicians.
“After this I’ll give you the necklace back, I promise. Besides, aren’t you interested in the new and exciting?”
Before Sakito had a chance to protest further, he and Niya were caught up in the movements of the other dancers. When none of them appeared averse to his presence, he relaxed and made a valiant attempt to learn the steps, although mostly he just tripped over his own feet. Three more cups of wine and several songs later Sakito was genuinely having a better time with the gypsies than he had had in eons, and the necklace went temporarily forgotten. If Niya had planned to make him loose track of his original purpose coming here, it was working and Sakito didn’t particularly care. His new friend picked him up as easily as if he were a child, swinging him around until his already fuzzy head felt light enough to float away and he wasn’t sure if he was spinning or the rest of the world was over Niya’s shoulder. The gypsy set him back on his feet, but Sakito let his arms linger around the other’s neck, balance being only half his reason for doing so. Niya kept an arm around his waist and, though in the back of Sakito’s mind he remembered that public affection was supposed to go against proper etiquette, their pose didn’t feel at all out of place here, on the edge of the open world.
The music started again, and the two were drawn back into the festivities, continuing on far into the night. Eventually, the musicians grew tired and the dancers gave up, gathering loosely around the flickering remains of the fire to laugh and drink. Sakito sat slightly apart from the rest, nursing a partially full mug and staring up at the now visible stars with sleepy eyes. He could see Niya not far away, where the gypsy had been beckoned over to share a laugh with his traveling companions, promising his guest that he wouldn’t be long. Home seemed so distant and though he had wished for so long that this opportunity would come, a faint shiver shook up and down his spine as he turned to look into the empty black of fields beyond the camp. Sakito felt rather than saw Niya join him, the warmth of another human body driving away the unplaced fear that had threatened to take over his thoughts.
“It’s almost dawn,” Niya remarked quietly. Though he didn’t say so aloud, the tone implied that it was much too late and Sakito was far from home. When he received only a leaden silence in reply, the gypsy curled his arm around Sakito’s narrow back, supporting him when he leaned unexpectedly into the embrace. Why Sakito trusted Niya, though some of his first encounters with gypsies were highly unpleasant, he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps Sakito was just a trusting soul, or perhaps there was something virtuous behind those mischievous eyes, despite contrary evidence against his people as a whole.
Sakito tilted his head trying to see Niya’s face, but at that angle all he could see was the other’s jaw. Previously unoccupied, the gypsy’s right hand reach across to touch Sakito’s cheek, drawing him close enough to tuck under his chin, while the wayward hand continued to explore elegant features with gentle caresses. The gypsy’s hands were rough, Sakito thought, but he didn’t mind in the least. A calloused thumb caught slightly against the delicate skin of his lips, to be withdrawn a moment later and replaced by Niya’s own mouth as he shifted Sakito upright away from his shoulder. Supple lips against his own and strong hands carefully cupping his face, turned out to be far more intoxicating to Sakito than all the wine he had ingested that night. He placed his hands firmly against Niya’s chest, but only to feel the steady thumping of his heart rather than to push him away.
Niya drew back, but with more confidence than he knew he possessed, Sakito followed, nibbling at the gypsy’s lower lip until he was kissed again. Tired from the late hour and the sudden rush of emotion that pushed the two into each other’s arms, Sakito slowly broke away, lingering close with his nose and forehead resting against Niya’s cheek. He waited for the blood to stop pounding in his ears before speaking. “Take me with you. Please, take me with you.” The voice reaching Niya’s ears was soft and pleading, coupled with slender hands kneading desperately against the fabric of his shirt.
When the gypsy didn’t answer, Sakito curled up against him, letting his heavy head fall to Niya’s shoulder. Drunken exhaustion set in, and within minutes he was soundly asleep.
***
Morning poured in through the open window, lackluster and smelling of rain. The pale, gray light barely illuminated the far wall of the room, where Sakito’s bed stood. Its owner’s body barely made a lump under the heavy blankets that covered him, the only evidence that the bed was occupied by a human presence at all being a bit of brown hair splayed over the pillow and the tips of his fingers curled around the edge of the bedding. On dreary mornings like this, Sakito never cared for getting out of bed, and he was feeling especially lethargic that day. Every one of his limbs was as heavy as a bag of bricks. The more conscious he became, the more he felt as if all his insides had been replaced with stones while he slept. Grasping the edge of the duvet, Sakito pulled it down enough to peek over the top, squinting at the window. Snatches of the day before flitted through his memory, never lingering long enough for him to stop and examine them. The fortune-teller, the gypsy camp, dancing, his necklace, Niya… All those things seemed so far away, like a dream you can’t quite recall.
Reaching up, Sakito absently felt for the necklace, finding it safely in its usual place around neck. Part of him wanted it to still be missing, although the chain sliding between his fingers was comfortingly familiar. At least if it had been gone, he would know that yesterday had been real. One scene in particular appeared clearer than the others; Sakito touched his lips and if he closed his eyes he could almost feel Niya kissing him all over again. Sighing, he rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head, one hand still clutched around the gold pendant. A dream. That’s all it was. Just a dream…