Sha Gojyo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
erogappa) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thenearshore2018-08-26 10:34 am
erogappa) wrote in thenearshore2018-08-26 10:34 am
It's four in the morning
Who: Gojyo and his gods (Ayumu, Goku, and Hakkai)
What: Gojyo has a nightmare. Everyone responds.
When: Very early morning of January 11th
Where: ASATO'S, the bar formerly known as KINYOBI
Warnings: See individual subject lines
[ The last of the Friday Men have left for the night, the glasses and mixware have been stowed in the tiny dishwasher beneath the counter, the place has been wiped and swept, and the lights, one by one, switched off. Finally, exhausted, Gojyo falls into bed, and dreams.
It's summer, and the hallway is stifling hot. The grocery bag in his arms is heavy, the cheap paper softening from his sweat and threatening to tear. He has to hold the bags tight, the sharp edges of their contents digging into his bare arms, and he grumbles a little about all those petty things.
Still, he's happy. The door he wants is in sight now, and his mind is a soft blur of anticipation. He'll set his burden down, stretch out beneath the fan, maybe have a beer... And the day has been a good one too, he thinks, although the details aren't clear. They don't need to be, though -- he did something good, he helped somebody (a kid, right? A lost kid, scared and alone). The bags he's carrying, they're for others too, aren't they? He's been helpful -- he's been useful. Somebody will smile at him when he opens that door. Somebody will be happy to see him.
But this is a nightmare. When he opens the door, nobody is smiling.
When he opens the door, he sees Goku, dead on the floor. Past him is a Sanzo -- Sharak? No, it's Genjo, Goku and Genjo, and as he turns, the bags falling, he sees Hakkai's body out of the corner of his eye.
He can't breathe.
"This is what you wanted!" crows a tiny voice -- it's the kid, the kid he helped, but the kid's a monster, or riding a monster, he can't tell, everything is blurring, "you wished for this!" and he didn't, he didn't want this! He didn't want Hakkai dead, not really, and never Goku, god, not Goku. Not Goku.
He throws himself out of bed in the dark, his summon weapon appearing in a flash, dripping with sweat in the freezing January air. He can still see them, bodies twisted and still, lying on the floor all around him. Dead because of him. Dead because of his mistake. He can't breathe.
What: Gojyo has a nightmare. Everyone responds.
When: Very early morning of January 11th
Where: ASATO'S, the bar formerly known as KINYOBI
Warnings: See individual subject lines
[ The last of the Friday Men have left for the night, the glasses and mixware have been stowed in the tiny dishwasher beneath the counter, the place has been wiped and swept, and the lights, one by one, switched off. Finally, exhausted, Gojyo falls into bed, and dreams.
It's summer, and the hallway is stifling hot. The grocery bag in his arms is heavy, the cheap paper softening from his sweat and threatening to tear. He has to hold the bags tight, the sharp edges of their contents digging into his bare arms, and he grumbles a little about all those petty things.
Still, he's happy. The door he wants is in sight now, and his mind is a soft blur of anticipation. He'll set his burden down, stretch out beneath the fan, maybe have a beer... And the day has been a good one too, he thinks, although the details aren't clear. They don't need to be, though -- he did something good, he helped somebody (a kid, right? A lost kid, scared and alone). The bags he's carrying, they're for others too, aren't they? He's been helpful -- he's been useful. Somebody will smile at him when he opens that door. Somebody will be happy to see him.
But this is a nightmare. When he opens the door, nobody is smiling.
When he opens the door, he sees Goku, dead on the floor. Past him is a Sanzo -- Sharak? No, it's Genjo, Goku and Genjo, and as he turns, the bags falling, he sees Hakkai's body out of the corner of his eye.
He can't breathe.
"This is what you wanted!" crows a tiny voice -- it's the kid, the kid he helped, but the kid's a monster, or riding a monster, he can't tell, everything is blurring, "you wished for this!" and he didn't, he didn't want this! He didn't want Hakkai dead, not really, and never Goku, god, not Goku. Not Goku.
He throws himself out of bed in the dark, his summon weapon appearing in a flash, dripping with sweat in the freezing January air. He can still see them, bodies twisted and still, lying on the floor all around him. Dead because of him. Dead because of his mistake. He can't breathe.