Disclaimer: Do not own Drrr! or any of the characters.
A/N: This is madness...
Tokyo in flames
The sunshine through the blinds was wane and silent, a sad autumn afternoon caress that he couldn't enjoy.
Tokyo was in flames. The orange and red and cerise licked at the streets with wicked crackles of excitement. People ran and he was watching from atop that tower he didn't remember the name of anymore.
The squeeze of the leather on his wrists was uncomfortable. He strained against it. It hurt a bit, but he couldn't think about that. He couldn't think.
Tokyo was in flames. The fire rushed down the streets he knew, but couldn't walk anymore. It devoured buildings, vehicles, people, that boy with the black hair and blue eyes he didn't know he knew. Not anymore. But up here everything was sweeter.
He trashed a bit. The bed creaked, the steel clanged on the tiled wall. People in green rushed around him.
Tokyo was in flames. The heat caressed his feet as he stood at the edge of the building staring down into the red, red, red that tried to reach him like hands of God. Like hands of Death. His eyes went wide and he laughed, spreading his arms like wings, his coat fluttering in the wind of the fire.
He laughed; they tried to hold him down because he was straining so hard the buckles were coming loose. He screamed, laughed, tossed his head back into the pillow smelling of antiseptic, his jet black hair brushing against his pale cheeks.
Tokyo was in flames. He watched, his arms spread, his eyes wide, his laughter merry. He watched and saw the beautiful colors reach up to the sky and then a voice.
Someone yelled, "Sedate him!" He strained harder; the needle was hard to get in.
Tokyo was in flames. The voice was rough, calling his name in a snarl and he was about to open his mouth and answer, but he didn't remember what he was supposed to say.
The sedative came. He blinked sluggishly, seeing shades and blond hair and black and white. He smelled cigarette smoke. Then nothing and nothing and nothing.
Tokyo was never in flames.