Dream § 004 § Valentine's Day is unfortunate. Fortunately.
It starts like this, with an innocent phone conversation, a green-haired boy he doesn't know on the other line. "I take it you're fond of this young lady?"
He didn't think of it at the time, but in retrospect, it should have scared him that his first reaction to those words had been abject panic.
---
Or maybe what it really started with was their arrival. He remembers waking up with his back propped up against a tree, surrounded by quaint- and empty, apparently -houses under a perfect blue sky. Confused and disoriented, he'd grappled for anything familiar, anything that reminded him of home.
And he'd found her.
(That'd been strike one against him.)
They'd walked together, found apartments together, and when he'd fallen asleep in his own perfectly symmetrical bed, scrupulously made up during the waning daylight hours, his last thought had been how glad he was that she was here with him.
---
Days had passed, and days turned into weeks. He found himself both loving and cursing the dream feature, because it let him learn more about her. They hadn't been all that close back at home, but in many ways, Somarium seemed like a chance to start over. And when he was talking to her, he didn't have to worry about what was going on in his own world, or the trials of being a shinigami. Even though their conversations had often lapsed into awkwardness, he couldn't bring himself to care- they'd go back to talking another day, like it'd been nothing.
And then...
And then it had been strange. Because somehow, a conversation that had seemed almost normal had taken a strange turn.
"Oh, did you know Blair was here, too?" It's an innocent question that she asks him, and he suspects nothing dire of it.
"Blair... your cat? Well, I suppose her magic could be useful."
"Mm. She said she's been having fun here lately..."
"Blair seems like the type to enjoy herself wherever she is, really."
"...I can't disagree with that. She said I just needed to meet someone more 'interesting' to have fun."
And here is where it all goes horribly wrong, because for some reason he finds it in him to say, "I suppose. She forgets that not everyone is like her, though. Some people can't just run off with random men to have a good time. Her standards of 'interesting' aren't universal." It was supposed to be a defense of her honor- how dare Blair imply that Maka was that kind of loose person? -but it was taken the wrong way, and soon he finds himself backtracking;
"...I wasn't really thinking of men, specifically, Kid-kun. But...yes. You sound a bit miffed. Are you alright?"
He's not. At all. And for the rest of the night, even after the conversation is over and she's hung up and he's lying awake in his (still perfectly symmetrical) bed, it's all he can think about- how he's not alright, and how he doesn't know why. (And maybe that the idea of her going around with other men- other men that don't have simply friendly designs on her -doesn't enthuse him at all.)
(Second strike.)
---
When the earthquake hit, he was outside, wandering- not because he couldn't sleep, and writing poetry (about her- no, never about her, the fact that he thought of her while writing must have been a coincidence) wasn't helping, of course not -and so he got the worst of it. First came the rain, so sudden and harsh that he couldn't prepare for it, and then the tremors that knocked him to the ground the first time; he hurried under the awning of a nearby building to wait it out, and when it became apparent that the earthquakes weren't stopping, and shelter or not the building was now a hazard, he set out walking.
After the confusion died down some, he worried- about his apartment, about the residents of Somarium, and especially aboout Maka. Yes, she can take care of herself, but survival instincts don't help much when you're pinned under fifty pound of fallen concrete roofing. He wondered where she was, and if she was alright- and eventually resorted to calling her.
And when he found out that she was stuck in the library and the water was rising- flooding, from the torrents of dark black rain -he had no choice but to go and get her. Nothing would do but that he made sure she was safe.
He'd taken Beelzebub, even though the skateboard hadn't been working properly since arrival; it took all his concentration just to hover an inch above the waterline, but it was worth it, because it was more important to know that she was alright.
(It didn't occur to him to wonder about that. She was his friend; friends merited this level of worry. Of course.)
And he'd managed to get them back to the apartment building on Beelzebub, as well, and upon noticing the flooded first floor, up eight stories to her room, all so she wouldn't have to get more wet than she already was. Thinking back, he remembers her warm body pressed against his back, and her arms wrapped around his chest, and the fact that his jacket had smelled vaguely like her shampoo for days after that, and he wonders if it had anything to do with his ability to raise the skateboard. Ridiculous, of course. A coincidence.
(Third strike.)
----
A day or so later, sitting in the cafe with her- the rain still pouring down outside. She's cold, he loans her his jacket (which feels so much warmer after she gives it back); her pigtails are slightly unsymmetrical, so he helpfully fixes them for her, talking about nothing much in particular as he makes everything perfect. (She's always perfect. It's just that sometimes, she needs his help to stay that way. Understandable.)
He ignores how nice it feels to run his hands through her hair.
(He should have known.)
---
Training her to fight had been difficult, because he wanted her to learn, but he didn't want to have to hurt her. He admired her skills in battle before, and after fighting her in close combat, he was even more impressed; but there was definitely room for improvement, and soon after that the oppressive wavelength of the strange new monsters had driven them away to relative safety.
(That night, he'd dreamt of being her weapon, of being able to protect her while still allowing her to be strong.)
(He hadn't known what it had meant.)
(Stupid, stupid, stupid.)
And after that, when the threat had finally died down, they'd gone to the library, a different one, at a perfectly symmetrical time, which she'd picked out- 8 in the morning -and he'd sat quietly among the stacks, book in hand, trying to focus on something other than the soft humming of her soul.
(Why hadn't he seen it? He'd been blind.)
---
"Ah, I don't know, they say you dream about things you focus on while you're awake..."
~~~
*sudden realization*
I... oh, dear. This... can't be happening. I... I can't...
....*click*
[ooc: Alright, so, since Valentine's posts seem popular today, even with the lack of an actual event: it should be pointed out that this is completely open to everyone. However. If you haven't had any sort of contact with Kid before (or are Maka), you won't be getting any of the emotion behind this, and some, if not all, of the more telling scenes will appear blurred. This is because Maka-mun and I decided that build-up to relationship funtimes is awesome, and I enjoy drama. I'm also going to note that almost all of this came from things that happened in previous logs or dream posts, and everything else was heavily implied by said logs and dream posts.]
He didn't think of it at the time, but in retrospect, it should have scared him that his first reaction to those words had been abject panic.
---
Or maybe what it really started with was their arrival. He remembers waking up with his back propped up against a tree, surrounded by quaint- and empty, apparently -houses under a perfect blue sky. Confused and disoriented, he'd grappled for anything familiar, anything that reminded him of home.
And he'd found her.
(That'd been strike one against him.)
They'd walked together, found apartments together, and when he'd fallen asleep in his own perfectly symmetrical bed, scrupulously made up during the waning daylight hours, his last thought had been how glad he was that she was here with him.
---
Days had passed, and days turned into weeks. He found himself both loving and cursing the dream feature, because it let him learn more about her. They hadn't been all that close back at home, but in many ways, Somarium seemed like a chance to start over. And when he was talking to her, he didn't have to worry about what was going on in his own world, or the trials of being a shinigami. Even though their conversations had often lapsed into awkwardness, he couldn't bring himself to care- they'd go back to talking another day, like it'd been nothing.
And then...
And then it had been strange. Because somehow, a conversation that had seemed almost normal had taken a strange turn.
"Oh, did you know Blair was here, too?" It's an innocent question that she asks him, and he suspects nothing dire of it.
"Blair... your cat? Well, I suppose her magic could be useful."
"Mm. She said she's been having fun here lately..."
"Blair seems like the type to enjoy herself wherever she is, really."
"...I can't disagree with that. She said I just needed to meet someone more 'interesting' to have fun."
And here is where it all goes horribly wrong, because for some reason he finds it in him to say, "I suppose. She forgets that not everyone is like her, though. Some people can't just run off with random men to have a good time. Her standards of 'interesting' aren't universal." It was supposed to be a defense of her honor- how dare Blair imply that Maka was that kind of loose person? -but it was taken the wrong way, and soon he finds himself backtracking;
"...I wasn't really thinking of men, specifically, Kid-kun. But...yes. You sound a bit miffed. Are you alright?"
He's not. At all. And for the rest of the night, even after the conversation is over and she's hung up and he's lying awake in his (still perfectly symmetrical) bed, it's all he can think about- how he's not alright, and how he doesn't know why. (And maybe that the idea of her going around with other men- other men that don't have simply friendly designs on her -doesn't enthuse him at all.)
(Second strike.)
---
When the earthquake hit, he was outside, wandering- not because he couldn't sleep, and writing poetry (about her- no, never about her, the fact that he thought of her while writing must have been a coincidence) wasn't helping, of course not -and so he got the worst of it. First came the rain, so sudden and harsh that he couldn't prepare for it, and then the tremors that knocked him to the ground the first time; he hurried under the awning of a nearby building to wait it out, and when it became apparent that the earthquakes weren't stopping, and shelter or not the building was now a hazard, he set out walking.
After the confusion died down some, he worried- about his apartment, about the residents of Somarium, and especially aboout Maka. Yes, she can take care of herself, but survival instincts don't help much when you're pinned under fifty pound of fallen concrete roofing. He wondered where she was, and if she was alright- and eventually resorted to calling her.
And when he found out that she was stuck in the library and the water was rising- flooding, from the torrents of dark black rain -he had no choice but to go and get her. Nothing would do but that he made sure she was safe.
He'd taken Beelzebub, even though the skateboard hadn't been working properly since arrival; it took all his concentration just to hover an inch above the waterline, but it was worth it, because it was more important to know that she was alright.
(It didn't occur to him to wonder about that. She was his friend; friends merited this level of worry. Of course.)
And he'd managed to get them back to the apartment building on Beelzebub, as well, and upon noticing the flooded first floor, up eight stories to her room, all so she wouldn't have to get more wet than she already was. Thinking back, he remembers her warm body pressed against his back, and her arms wrapped around his chest, and the fact that his jacket had smelled vaguely like her shampoo for days after that, and he wonders if it had anything to do with his ability to raise the skateboard. Ridiculous, of course. A coincidence.
(Third strike.)
----
A day or so later, sitting in the cafe with her- the rain still pouring down outside. She's cold, he loans her his jacket (which feels so much warmer after she gives it back); her pigtails are slightly unsymmetrical, so he helpfully fixes them for her, talking about nothing much in particular as he makes everything perfect. (She's always perfect. It's just that sometimes, she needs his help to stay that way. Understandable.)
He ignores how nice it feels to run his hands through her hair.
(He should have known.)
---
Training her to fight had been difficult, because he wanted her to learn, but he didn't want to have to hurt her. He admired her skills in battle before, and after fighting her in close combat, he was even more impressed; but there was definitely room for improvement, and soon after that the oppressive wavelength of the strange new monsters had driven them away to relative safety.
(That night, he'd dreamt of being her weapon, of being able to protect her while still allowing her to be strong.)
(He hadn't known what it had meant.)
(Stupid, stupid, stupid.)
And after that, when the threat had finally died down, they'd gone to the library, a different one, at a perfectly symmetrical time, which she'd picked out- 8 in the morning -and he'd sat quietly among the stacks, book in hand, trying to focus on something other than the soft humming of her soul.
(Why hadn't he seen it? He'd been blind.)
---
"Ah, I don't know, they say you dream about things you focus on while you're awake..."
~~~
*sudden realization*
I... oh, dear. This... can't be happening. I... I can't...
....*click*
[ooc: Alright, so, since Valentine's posts seem popular today, even with the lack of an actual event: it should be pointed out that this is completely open to everyone. However. If you haven't had any sort of contact with Kid before (or are Maka), you won't be getting any of the emotion behind this, and some, if not all, of the more telling scenes will appear blurred. This is because Maka-mun and I decided that build-up to relationship funtimes is awesome, and I enjoy drama. I'm also going to note that almost all of this came from things that happened in previous logs or dream posts, and everything else was heavily implied by said logs and dream posts.]