Oh Buddha. Please...not this again.

The smoke from the alter sheds the incense-like scent and though Ritsuka doesn't honestly know how burnt flesh goes, his imagination has no trouble with supplying a substitute. Each time he sees the dream play, the glass in the window shatters and Soubi's arm explodes. Rain showers in small patterns across Ritsuka's face and Soubi smirks as if he had only come to the rescue so that bandages would once more resume their place on the student's arm. It makes Ritsuka feel cold, wondering if it isn't for him that Soubi had arrived. Colder still, when the match falls unnoticed on the other side and the incense has a reason to burn. They're never in time to save Seimei.

Buddha, why--and he wakes with the feeling caught in the back of his throat. It's so fortunate that he comes to so silently, lest his mother rush in.

"Oh my baby, my poor baby. My sweet and precious Ritsuka," she would hum, wrapping her warm arms around him in what feels like it should be a true labour of love. "Are you having bad dreams, my dear? Was that horrid boy trying to steal you away again?"

And then, when he'd fail to reply in the proper manner, she would understand that her horrid boy had still succeeded. Ritsuka isn't, and yet he is. It's impossible to understand and harder when she starts screaming. One day, he hopes, and gives silent thanks for being alone when he awakes.

Soubi, though, has also left him alone. It's not a far stretch for Ritsuka to long after others. Especially when his chest still heaves from the nightmare. The match falls so slowly while the gasoline pervades his senses. He can even taste it, and Seimei never moves.

Ritsuka's brother used to sleep that way, too. Hardly a breath or a whisper, completely at peace. Slumped in the chair of Ritsuka's contrived memory, Seimei had been a perfect image of that. Somehow, the peace remained a stranger to the scene. It makes sense to assume that it's because Ritsuka knows that the end is always going to be bad.

Soubi grins as the blood rolls down his arm and starts clotting into the white flowery sleeves. All the promises of love and protection become lies in that instant. It frustrates Ritsuka in knowing that this is all still in his head.

His phone may vibrate against his thigh and when he pulls it loose from his pajama pockets, it's Soubi reminding him that there is nothing now to fear. Had the doubt existed before the dreams, creating them? Are the dreams making his life spiral into dangerously frightening places?

Yuiko comments on the walk to school that Ritsuka looks exhausted. Will it change their whole relationship if he tells her that he would have given anything to have her there when he awoke?

Yayoi, despite his hostility to Ritsuka, slips a note into Ritsuka's binder before lunch. It's simple and in nearly-perfect penmanship. Do you want to talk about it?

For that, Ritsuka lets his eyes meet with his peer's, while both of them do their best to give Yuiko attention as she explains the latest episode of Tsubasa. The entire time Ritsuka prays for the phone to ring.

When he can no longer take it, Ritsuka finds a quiet place under a tree and fumbles with the numbers on his cell. There is a winter breeze that makes his ears twitch, and the chill wind fits with the static on the other end of the line.

"Damn you," weeps the boy, aware now that a certain promise had been broken. He hadn't expected the tears to come at all, if even so suddenly. Hunching into his coat Ritsuka recalls so desperately the feeling of need he had encountered the night before. The locked door and the strike of phosphorus. "You told me you'd be there for me."

And the world bends. Long pale hands slide across Ritsuka's collar, coming from behind. Stepping back in surprise, Ritsuka's dark furry ears brush against silver strands of hair.

"Did someone break your heart?" asks Soubi, murmuring his words into Ritsuka's jaw.

As much as he hates such attention, Ritsuka's chest seizes up and he can feel his heart longing to fall into the pit of his stomach. It is Soubi who is preventing the boy's knees from giving.

"N--no."

Soubi chuckles at the protest and pulls Ritsuka in closer. "The telephone company is having technical problems. It would appear that some fighter units have disabled a tower of theirs."

The implication comes quick and Ritsuka can't trust it so easily, for it is everything he needs to hear. "Were...did you get hurt this time?"

Soubi's thumb is petting Ritsuka's shoulder and the boy can imagine the bittersweet smile. "No. It was...easy. But I apologize if you had tried to reach me. I will always answer if you call."

But can you save me? Ritsuka can't make himself ask. It's one thing about being present, but as he's learned from his mother...

"I'm fine," snaps the boy. He wonders if the other will catch that as a lie, too. It leads him to think of the dreams and how he's not sure if he is allowed to have this. Certainly Soubi hasn't been deserved, and if the silver-haired figment in Ritsuka's mind wants to feel pain--"Are you unhappy about my command?"

Soubi hums an inquiry into Ritsuka's hair.

"I mean," swallows the boy. "I commanded you to avoid getting hurt. Is that...bad?"

"My only wish is to be commanded, Ritsuka." The words are soft and easy to fall into. "Tell me to do anything."

Ritsuka draws himself up, glancing at the slate-shaded sky. "If I told you to explain all of this, if...if I asked you who killed my brother and why, you wouldn't tell me, would you? Even if I ordered you to?"

Soubi says nothing, which is answer enough. Ritsuka pushes himself free of the arms draped around him. He wheels about and his tail flicks unapprovingly. "Then what good are you to me? Why do you always pick me when you know you can't help me!"

Immediately, the words are too harsh and Ritsuka knows he can't take them back. It tears at him when Soubi's expression does not change. The deep gaze that is unique to the student remains. Thin lips draw themselves up in a familiar little grin.

"Ritsuka, you should know that you're adorable when you're angry."

Ritsuka could cry again once more, hopelessly lost in the futility of this. He can't understand why Soubi would bother with him. Doesn't his brother's keeper understand what Ritsuka's mother knows?

He wants to just come out and say it. Soubi...I am not worth anything.

Soubi smiles and tilts his head. "Dear boy, please tell me what you want."

The whole world could end now. The drop of a match or the offer of a promise.

Ritsuka's tail curls around Soubi's hand, where a nail once penetrated. The fold of the student's hand is gentle but enforcing.

"I want you to be with me if I have a bad dream tonight," Ritsuka says. "I've...I've been having bad dreams."

"Well now," Soubi tips his head, "we're off to a very good start, don't you think?"

The elder pushes the hair out of his face and nudges the spectacles further up his nose. An arm envelopes the boy's shoulders in the way Seimei used to do.

Somehow, Ritsuka knows deep down that the next match struck with flutter out. The window of the classroom will still break and the blood will still stain Soubi's arm. When the other smiles at Ritsuka, though, the boy knows he'll fall in a different way. Like every time before. Screaming.

"Trust me."

Buddha...thank you.