Hello~! This is Any59, in case you didn't know—yes, yes I got a new account. Long story. Anyways, I'll be putting up some of my old stuff again and continuing it, but first I just wanted to get this teaser out of the way. It'll be for a story (with a sequel if everything turns out right) about Ultimo's first week back with Yamato and how he's coping. Yep. So here it goes. Sorry if it terrible.
The sky was blue. No, not just blue. It was a lighter blue at the horizon and a darker blue at the top of the sky. Blue, blue, blue. White cotton-ball, marshmallow fluffy clouds had dotted the blue-bowl sky in large balls and long sweeps. The trees were tall and all shades of sparkly green. Birds sang songs of love and friendship. The whole scene had been perfect.
Vice, he was the one thing that could ruin perfect dreams more than anything else. Such a problem was far, far away. The only thing that had been missing was Yamato. Then Ultimo's dream would be complete. But it hadn't mattered. Just the intoxicating sky…the trance-setting birdsongs…and the rustle of the bleary trees. Everything was getting steamy and smudged by some force, pulling Ultimo into a deeper and deeper lull.
He didn't know when he looked down at the ground, but whenever it was, Ulti wished he could go back to before then. The ground, at first glance, had been filled with majestically dark purple grass and deep chocolaty brown soil. Pulsing grass and rolling soil. Then, at closer inspection, the dreamer saw that the ground was a gigantic piece of something—most likely flesh—that was rotting. Oozing puss, spurting gasses, the trees were fungus and the sky was…well, by that time Ultimo had forgotten the sky. Where he had been laying there was a large indent that was filling with old blood—stale brown and fishy smelling. What used to be bird songs were actually the groans of the decaying corpse. If douji could vomit, Ulti would have done so, right then and there.
Something then compelled him to run. He didn't know where,but he was running before he knew it, his shoes leaving indents in the rotting flesh for ground. After an hour or two of sprinting on a decaying whatever, Ultimo began to ascend stairs. Really random stairs. They started out normal, simple carpeted stairs that kept going up and up. Soon they changed to pitch-black stairs which had eyes and open mouths painted on the side of them—one look down and Ulti knew that the 'land' he was on had been left far behind. Eventually the flight of stairs was wooden and creaky. The aged planks bent when he hurriedly stepped on them, sometimes even breaking and making his foot slip and get scratched by the splinters.
Finally, he was on solid land. The stairs had stopped in a sewer—city sewer, he knew it—and climbing the latter, Ultimo believed the land above to be his safety. He climbed out of the man-hole and onto the city above. Nobody was around and the lights were still on, the blinking 'OPEN' signs and large English letters and slogans lead Ulti to the conclusion that he was in America. He continued to walk about the abandoned city until he had come upon a forest at the edge of the place. It was then that he froze. His body froze in place like reality had dropped him from its motherly and careful grasp, letting Ultimo stop, his time holding still.
Slowly, his memories began to replay, from looking up at the sky on a perfect day to right then when he froze. It was an odd sensation. Ultimo's body didn't physically move, but mentally he could run and it was like he was running. Nothing made sense anymore. Suddenly, something began to move. At first it was just moving, but the more Ultimo looked, the more he realized that the figure was moving towards him. Wait…was that…? Master! His beloved Yamato-sama was coming towards him! At the sudden jolt of emotions Ultimo regained motion in his body. He began to tentatively walk closer to Yamato, afraid that his master's sudden presence was just an illusion. But the more he walked, the faster his pace became, though the pace of the latter stayed the same. Then, Yamato walked right past his little page, the one who had always been his. Ultimo swore he heard a loud cracking noise as his heart broke. His master…he didn't even look at him, just…just walked right past. Putting a large, candy-like, bright red gauntlet onto his chest, Ulti sighed a sigh of defeat and despair. Another loud cracking noise was heard by his master's face. Yamato turned his head in jerky motions, as if he was going to warn the little red-haired boy. Unfortunately, by the time he was facing his douji, all that remained was a demon's face. Marred flesh laced with sharp, pointy teeth and ember red and coal blackness decked his eyes.
"Master!" Ultimo shrieked in horror, confusion, and despair—the first vocalization in the entire ordeal.
"What? You little shit!" A seething voice of raspy hate that did not belong to Agari Yamato spit itself at the smaller being.
A shit. Ultimo froze. Yamato had only called him that once or twice, in the 12th century, when he'd become completely, yet irrationally, mad at Ultimo. Thankfully, he'd realize what he said and apologize later.
"Well? Answer me!" Again, that voice. Nothing about it sounded like him. Nothing.
"Y-Yamato-sama…" Ultimo began to tear up, hoping that something good would come from this dream.
Yamato then turned and walked away, leaving footprints in the soft ground.
"Wait!" Ulti had cried out, the desperateness ringing through the trees. Agari Yamato turned his head, smoothly this time, and glared at his douji.
"I never wanted you. Leave." The coldness in those words could kill. Ultimo felt faint when he heard his master's response. Leave, as in die? Never wanted…was he just too much a burden? Perhaps this was reality, and Ultimo was just catching up.
Yamato began to leave Ultimo, dazed and torn up, and go about his business, whatever it was…
"NO, YAMATO-SAMA! PLEASE! STOP, STOP!" The brightly colored douji literally threw himself at the tall legs of his beloved master. Yamato began to beat and yell at the small boy, calling him obscene things and telling him that he was unwanted. Ultimo, on the other hand, continued to beg and plead, hot tears going down his face, into his mouth and onto the ground.
They were going throughout the entire city by that point, the closer to the point of Ultimo's entrance, the louder the screams of the master became as they echoed through doorways and fell from street-lamps.
"GET OFF ME! GET OFF, YOU USELESS LITTLE BRAT!(Get Off Me! Get Off, You Useless Little Brat! Get off me! Get off, you useless little brat! get off me. get off, you useless little brat.)" Yamato cried, his voice repetitively echoing from every little fiber in the city, becoming softer and softer as new things were bellowed at the heart of the innocent douji, slowly breaking his heart into a million deadly pieces.
Ultimo chose to let go when he felt the man-hole. His now limp body fell down into the black abyss, tumbled down the stairs, splinters gabbing into him were the holes were, and finally back onto the soft, squishy carcasses of where he had started. He could still hear Yamato-sama's words of how useless and unwanted he was. Ulti could feel himself near death, pining for some love or feeling of want, when…
Ultimo's eyes snapped open, the white ceiling of his master's bedroom above him and Agari Yamato at his side. It was just a dream. Only a dream. Ultimo turned his head to the side, looking at the face of his deeply sleeping master. Yamato still loved him and cared for him. The time on the alarm-clock read 1:45, and Ulti decided to close his eyes and wait until it was time for him to quietly get up and prepare breakfast for his master and his mother, so it would be ready for them when they woke. Ulti swore that if he didn't need to go into a 'R.E.M.' sleep in order to charge, he'd never do more than an 8-hour power-nap. Deep sleep was hell for him, although such problems had only arisen recently, after Agari Yamato came back into his life.
I had planed that ending differently, with more dialogs from Yamato being all, "You're useless, I have no need for you, go die!" and such. And if anyone was wondering if the Agari Yamato I was using was 12th century or 21st, I'm leaving that up to you to decide (though for me he was 12th, but if he's 21st for you, that's fine. It doesn't matter). Review telling me what you think the story'll be about, if you liked/hated this, and really anything you feel like (even something completely irrelevant, whatever you feel like). Have a nice night! …Or not, hehehe…
(and if anyone cares, the story's title is 'A Mid-Summer's Nightmare' and I'll explain the name and more details when I start it.)