AN: I love Sena paired with Shien and wish to share my obsession with the world. Join me.
-x-
Shien "The Kid" Mushanokoji/Sena Kobayakawa
-x-
Dreams
-x-
Shien feared dreaming with his whole being. He dreaded wanting something so bad, that when he failed to get it, he'd be left broken and empty. He was terrified of disappointment enough to promise that himself that he would never yearn for something again.
When he met Sena, though, he couldn't help but notice that slight sliver of need – of want – attach itself to him. For all his promises, tears and crushed expectations, he found himself unable to withhold himself from dreaming once again.
And it scared him. Sleepless nights, cold sweats and that oppressing feeling of pending failure tore at him every minute of every hour of every fucking day, giving him no rest to steady himself and catch the breath that he left somewhere on the field that he didn't – couldn't – admit needing as well.
He didn't want to acknowledge it. Didn't want to face the fact that if he didn't get him, something in him would break.
But he couldn't deny it, for every time he caught a glimpse of a darkened eye-shield – every time someone would mention him – the need would rear its ugly head again, dragging his trembling form out from where it had been hiding.
He tried not to let anything of what was happening on the inside show, but as the weeks wore on, it became apparent to everyone that knew him that something was wrong. None of them knew just what there was wrong, of course, but worry they did, and where Tetsuma never had strayed too far away from him in the past, he was now constantly at his side, ready to act when needed.
But even with Tetsuma's unrelenting eyes focused solely on him, he refused to say out loud what was wrong. It would be real, if he did.
So he tried to go on as usual, his performance as quarterback still as consistent as before his heart began messing with him, and hoped that if he just continued long enough, everything would just disappear.
It might have worked – possibly, maybe, perhaps – but then Hiruma decided to involve himself and the train that had begun its path the day he met number 21 picked up speed once more, just as unrelenting as Tetsuma on the field.
The Devil of Deimon simply looked at him, his calculating eyes searching every corner of his soul as though he would learn all just by peering into Shien's tired face. Maybe he could, it was the Hiruma, after all. Nothing was impossible for him. Not even finding out that he had begun to dream again, or that he feared it more than death himself, just from staring him in the eyes.
"Who?" was all he asked, certain in his belief that it was a person that had caused the quick-drawing quarterback to feel again, and while he answered him with a weary voice after a few minutes of quiet, he thought that Hiruma probably knew who it was all along.
The fanged youth stared out over the field they were sitting on, leaning slightly backwards on his hands, a green bubble repeatedly popping being the only noise to break the silence for a long time. Finally, he rose to get up, stretching his arms up above his head before he turned to walk away.
"He is the most naïve and clueless guy I've ever met. Doesn't even consider himself to be anything special, even when he outruns the best on the field." He throws out over his shoulder, popping the gum once more before continuing.
"He's shy, polite to a fault and so bloody kind and selfless that I seriously don't know what to do with him. But while it definitely won't be easy to get him to realise it, I earnestly believe that you couldn't have chosen better, whether you did it intentionally or not. It's time to live again, Kid."
He stopped briefly to turn around and nailed him with his piercing eyes, always seeing more than they should be allowed. 'Pop', sounded the gum again.
"And life's fucking dull with no fucking dreams."
He didn't know why, but when Hiruma had disappeared from his line of sight, his arms giving out on him, making him lie spread out on the grass-clad ground, he felt like a colossal weight had been lifted of his shoulders, relief filling him to his very core.
He tilted his hat slightly so it covered his eyes from the slowly setting sun, a small hint of a smile displayed on his face. His breathing pattern was deep and even, and he soon found himself slipping into Morpheus' domains, the budding sleep seeming for the first time in a long while to be undisturbed and pleasant.
He had gameplays to plan.