I don't own Kamen Rider OOO

Reach

It's the same dream again. How many times did he have it already? A dozen, two dozen times? More? Probably more, he can barely remember having any other dreams for... how long has it been already? Since he left? That sounds roughly accurate. And the nights he doesn't remember dreaming on, well... really now; what are the odds?

He's falling. Shooting down straight out of the sky, the Earth below pulling him down as though he weighted a ton. He personally feels as light as a feather as though the weight of the world just unloaded from his shoulders. That must be why he's up there to begin with, he thinks and lets the wind carry him.

He's not the only one up there and a part of him didn't really expect otherwise. How long have they been together, after all? There's no way he'd leave him hanging, then of all times. His wings are spread and his cocky grin tells him he's only using them to match their speeds. 'I could leave you here and fly off if I wanted' - that sort of thing. But he doesn't. He never does, and that smirk always changes, always softens, warms up as befitting one whose element is the flame. He's just as greedy as one, wanting to consume anything, everything - even him. That's why he's reaching out, his talon-adorned hand grasping at air.

He's reaching back before he can think about it, seeing his own arm stretching in front of him. The wind picks up but they don't give up. They struggle, they fight, and just as the ground rises to meet them -

Hino Eiji wakes up. He always does, at the same point. Before they either die, or take each other's hands. Or both, he knows that's also a possibility, but never saw it happen. Because he always wakes up just before, gripping onto the broken medal so tightly the two pieces dig into his skin, an unsatisfying replacement to its owner's claws.

But that's alright, he thinks as he washes his face with water from his canteen, packs his things and walks the rest of the way towards the nearby village. Being left unsatisfied is alright. After all, desire's what makes the world turn, or so he's been told, so why shouldn't it help him, too?

That's all he really needs, he concludes and walks up to the hut where one who's said to know about the medals resides. His desire, a pair of underwear for tomorrow, and just enough money for ice cream, just in case. Because he promised, and it hasn't been a year's worth yet.

Che... idiot.