The dreams always start out the same way. I'm standing in the middle of a forest. At first it was small. It had only a few scraggly trees and the sun was shining. As time went on the trees grew larger and more numerous. The sun shone weaker until it barely filtered through the branches of the trees at all.
This time the trees grew unnaturally close together, as if to trigger my mild claustrophobia into a panic attack. Maybe it is their purpose to cause me to run shrieking through the brush, my limbs flailing, so I can trip and impale myself on a conveniently placed low-lying branch.
I can't think of them as being anything other than evil.
To my right I hear a sound. A stick snapping under a foot. Immediately a wave of despair washes over me so suddenly and completely that I gasp. Then the panic starts. The noise gets closer and I can hear something over the sound of footsteps and crunching leaves. I can hear him breathing. It isn't loud or rushing like any other monster's. It's quiet and calculating. He wants me to hear it, but not enough so I can tell where it's coming from.
All sound is drowned out by the adrenaline in my veins pumping noisily to my heart and, from there, my brain. I run like a deer. I dart between trees and zigzag erratically until I get disoriented. But I keep running.
There's no end to the trees. There's no place to hide. There is no rest. Only the hunt. Guess who's the prey?
The stupid prey runs until it feels the first signs of dehydration. I know them well. The icy feeling down my spine, the fuzziness in my head, the pounding in my ears.
Dehydration used to be a big problem for me. I could never seem to get enough water. The doctor was always on to me about how I should drink more. He was always pressing glasses of water into my hands. When I was little, he'd put sugar in it, but later sugar became something I couldn't tolerate.
The stupid prey trips on a root and stays down. He knows it's over. He always wins.
He says my name from the darkness. He stretches it out because He likes the way it feels in his mouth. He likes the way it makes me shudder.
He saunters into my line of sight. He never just walks anywhere; he has to saunter. I wonder if he knows how arrogant he is, or if it comes naturally at this point.
He has inky hair and black eyes. He is pale and unnaturally skinny. He is beautiful, even when his face is twisted in hate, but when he smiles I want to kill myself.
He reaches down and touches my face and-
I'm in motion again and I'm screaming.
"I WON'T LET YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!"
My fist collides with something soft. I lash out at it again and again, hitting it harder and harder. I can't see straight anymore. Colors and shapes dart across my vision and nothing matters except I have to hurt and destroy and-
Voices are shouting my name. They grab my arm and try to pull me away from the bloody thing I'm attacking. There was a time when I would've allowed this. Now I lash out at them ferociously. Poor dears didn't realize I've been holding back for seventeen years. Now is not a time for holding back. I have to destroy her before she can-
"AKITO!"
I recognize that voice. I turn and see him clearly. Everything thing around him is blurry and out of focus.
All the rage that was directed at no one in particular concentrates on one point. The boy with the ridiculous red hair. I hate him. I can't remember why, but I hate him so much I want to tear him apart with my bare hands.
I proceed to.
I can't feel anything. It's like floating. I can't feel the pain of my fingers breaking from hitting him too hard and too fast, I can't feel the floor beneath my feet, I can't feel my lip splitting open, and I can't feel my teeth as they slash through the skin of his neck. But I can taste the blood.
"I'll kill her," I say into his ear softly. "I'll kill her, and then I'll kill myself. Will that make you happy?"
Then something cold and sharp stabs through my back and impales us both.
All at once the hate disappears, along with the need to hurt and destroy. The only thing left is despair.
I could wail and scream and die in a bloody shower of violence, but I don't. I'm in shock. My fists tighten around the material of his shirt. A trail of blood oozes from my mouth.
"Damn," I sputter, and then I slump forward on Kyo's chest and die.
The last thing I see is Yuki.
I woke up from one hell and into another.
Everything was white. The walls were white, the floor was white, my clothes were white, the frickin pills they gave me were white.
My wide eyes took in all the whiteness before I closed them again. Even the forest was preferable to this. At least among the trees there was variety.
I opened my eyes again. Something was wrong. There was something different about that dream from all the others. I had to tell someone...
A nurse clad in white rushed in. She must have been listening to my monitors and heard my blood pressure go through the roof. Or she heard me scream 'I'll kill you.' Either one was enough to put these people in a frenzy.
I don't see what the big deal is.
"Is everything okay, Sohma-san?"
I didn't answer. She didn't expect one.
She checked my monitors, took my temperature, asked me if I was hungry, and made sure my arms didn't magically get unrestrained.
"Your lip is bleeding, Sohma-san."
She dabbed the blood with a corner of her uniform while she told me about my appointment with Dr. StupidAssFace-san
He came to check on me at least once a week in my little padded corner of solitude. I hated him. I was perfectly justified in hating him because he had to be the most pretentious man on the planet. I could handle arrogant people, but not condescending ones. But maybe I could warn him. I could tell him about the thing in my dream and he could tell-
Something the nurse said caught my attention.
"-san is coming to see you today. He has a meeting today, but it should be over about now-"
What the hell was she talking about?
"I'm sure you'll be glad to see him; it's been so long since someone from your family has been here..."
My eyes narrowed. This did not bode well. Ever since they sent me to the institute for the criminally insane, my family had kept their distance. I didn't blame them.
This was good, however. I could tell my relative about the dream; I could tell them that there was something wrong, and where to look for it. My outlook brightened and I smiled.
"Sohma-san?"
Oops, she saw me smiling. I rearranged my face into my usual mask of blankness.
There was a bustle outside the door and a parade of nurses, all wearing white and most of whom were giggling, admitted my visitor.
"Hatori-sama," my nurse blushed, "we weren't expecting you so soon."
He focused his beautiful eye on her and she straightened.
"Can I speak to Akito alone?"
"O-of course you can!" She cried an octave higher than her normal voice. She left quickly, casting an admiring look behind her as she went.
I stared at the wall.
He sat down across from me.
"Akito."
I said nothing.
"Akito look at me."
I tried, I really did. I tried to look into his eyes, but I felt the familiar pain in my stomach. It was like my belly had been ripped open and filled with mercury. The pain went away when I looked back at the wall.
"It's been a long time," he said. "Are you doing well?"
Sometimes if I looked really hard I could imagine there's a window carved into the wall. Then I tried to imagine what it looked like outside. Most of the time I see the sun.
"I looked over your file. I do that. I look at it every day."
Outside my window there were never any trees. Or maybe a few little ones with flowers, standing in a row like soldiers, making the air smell nice...
"It's always the same. You haven't been improving. Your doctor tells me you won't eat, you won't acknowledge other people, you won't even speak."
There were often birds. I liked birds.
"I know you can speak."
This day, it was raining. Rain was good, too. Plants needed rain to grow.
"Akito, look at me!" He put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at his face. I stared at his nose to avoid looking into his eyes.
"They are starting to believe you're autistic. It's because you won't look at anyone. You act like you're in your own little world. Do you get what I'm saying?!"
I've never seen Hatori this worked up over anything. 'Don't wrinkle your face up like that, Ha'ri' I felt like whining. I didn't say anything, though. Speaking was something I took for granted, and now it was getting harder and harder to form words with any reliability.
"If you continue much longer like this, you will never find your way back. You will stay here forever. You won't recover."
Well, gee, that was the point, wasn't it?
He bent down farther to look into my eyes.
"Please, Akito."
In all the drama I forgot what I was supposed to do. I worked on getting the words out. It was like trying to chew nails.
"I...d-...dun..."
His one good eye widened.
"I don't speak because that's what you want!" I spat out, finally.
He recoiled and released my face. It seemed like I had hit a nerve.
I took a deep breath and tried again.
"Hat...ori...s-something...is wrong."
"What is it, Akito?"
His usual serious face was back on. I frowned.
"I-I don't know...it has to d-do with Y-" The words failed me again. The mercury-in-the-stomach feeling was back with a vengeance.
"What are you talking about?"
I tried again, but I couldn't say the name. I didn't think I ever would.
"What's wrong?"
I looked back at the wall. Hatori might have freaked out again, but I couldn't pay attention. After a couple minutes I felt a hand on the back of my head, smoothing down my hair. I kept staring out my window.
"You're wrong," he said softly. Maybe I imagined it.
That morning Sohma Yuki woke up in the hell he created before he woke up in this one.
He shot up out of his bed, panting like a marathon runner. Through his terror-clouded eyes everything was perfect.
As he went through his morning routine, the level of perfectness continued. The whole planet had a happily-ever-after tone to it. The curse was gone, breakfast was delicious, the curse was gone, the weather was gorgeous, and the curse was gone.
He walked to school with Honda-san and Kyo. As he went he noticed the flowers gleaming prettily in the morning light. The birds were singing their happy little songs. The bees were buzzing. Children were laughing. Pretty girls were smiling at him. Everything was perfect.
Except for the voices in his head that were telling him to kill them all.
Every night since the curse was broken he dreamt of the forest. Every night it got worse. Now it was to the point of haunting his waking hours.
"Sohma-san, can you tell us how to find the derivative of this function?"
Yuki jerked back to reality.
"Uhh...what..."
Several girls started giggling; the teacher tapped her foot impatiently. Honda-san regarded him with wide eyes.
"The derivative of the function. Write it on the board, Sohma-san."
"Yes, sensei."
He walked up to the board and solved it in about three seconds. His classmates were duly impressed, but they were also used to it. Sohma Kyo scowled, leaned back in his chair, and looked out the window.
After class, Honda-san caught up with Yuki in the hallway.
"Yuki-kun, will you eat lunch with us today?" she asked, as she did every day. He smiled at her.
"Of course," he said. Honda-san stopped.
"Uh, Yuki-kun," she began with the care of someone about to approach a sensitive subject. "Is everything okay?"
He was about to tell her everything was fine, when suddenly everything was very not fine.
"It's just that you seem to be a little off lately," she said quickly. "I mean I've noticed recently, I mean when the...uh...curse...you know, broke. I was just wondering, because if something's wrong you could tell me and I could help, but only if you wanted me to..." She kept talking getting more and more worked up.
He watched her with growing horror. As she spoke he watched her die a hundred times, each more violent and bloody than the death before it. He stumbled backward, horrified.
"Yuki-kun!" She was clearly alarmed now.
"I'm sorr-" he began.
Honda-san reached out for him and was stabbed through the stomach with an iron stake.
"Help me...Yuki" Blood leaked from her mouth. "It huurts..."
He closed his eyes.
It's not real, it's not real, it's not real.
When he opened his eyes she was alive and whole. Her eyes were round with worry.
"I don't feel well," he stammered. "I'll see you at home." He turned and ran.
He stumbled into a bathroom stall like a drunk person and threw up in the toilet. Then he walked out the front doors of the school and towards the woods.
Kyo, who was skipping the last class of the day, saw Yuki for the last time before he left the sidewalk and headed toward the trees.
"Where the hell are you going?" Kyo asked brusquely.
"I'm going home."
Kyo didn't notice the finality in his voice, or the desperation. It wasn't until Kyo replayed the exchange in his mind later that night that he began to question whether he would ever see the rat again.
It was almost like the forest swallowed him whole.