Summary: They say it's a curse; others, a gift. But this one person, this jerk made it seem like pure coincidence. MxN One-shot! AU
A/N: Just making this up as I go. Recently, I've been busy with school and catching up with homework so I haven't been up-to-date with my other stories. I'm hoping this small one-shot will allow me to push aside my writer's bock.
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.~u~.~u~.
Dream Changer
"Dreams are the touchstones of our character." – Henry David Thoreau
.~u~.~u~.
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What is this? What did I just see? I sat in my seat, half listening to Professor Jinno talk about politics and what not. I glanced around the room, the memory quickly fading as my eyes swept over people, either slumped over, some heads on desks, or even eyes straining to stay awake while other bodies sat straight up, listening intently to the class lecture.
Shaking the feeling of disgust away, I brushed aside a loose curl that slipped out from my headband and blocked my vision. A small pain pulse within my forehead and I knew right away that a headache was then forming. It was a rough day to begin with; with a week's worth of downpour and loads of homework piled from seven professors asking nothing in return except to accomplish what was given. A sigh protrudes from my lips as Professor Jinno goes deeper into another topic of political matters.
Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I slowly inhaled, taking in the silence in the classroom and soon enough, my mind quickly closes to a conclusion on why the professor decides to stop talking.
Metal. Bronze and ashes, a kindle formed under a blazed pot of boiling water. Sounds of pounding fill the air, clang-clang!
Another sound is heard; foot steps, coming closer to where my subconscious was viewing things from. I don't see the person, but as I focus on the interior walls surrounding the room, I see the figure's shadow, lean and tall.
I feel as if I recognize this… daydream. As if it was déjà vu to me.
The lean figure shadowed further from the wall, its arm outstretched as it held a long stick and the sound of sizzling water was heard through out the room. Squinting, I couldn't tell what was going on due to this dream's focus.
Clang-clang!
Clearly, I had not the slightest thought on making anything edible for this day dream to develop into showing culinary skills nor did it occur to me that this dream was then revolving around the colonial times, a blacksmith pounding on a stick, namely a sword and then cooling it in water.
"A sword will be made for His Magnificence." A voice whispered through the walls.
Snapping my attention around, I couldn't pinpoint where the voice was coming from nor whom it was who spoke it.
"Now all I need is… the beautiful—" The voice stops immediately, as if he/ she were stung by a small bee. A low growl was heard from his/ her pharynx and I couldn't help but feel it was directed at me.
"What is it you want?" The voice demands, outraged, his/ her eyes flashed red. The only color that made my arm hairs stand on end. I held my breath, where have I seen those eyes? Where have I heard that line, that voice?
Biting down on my tongue, I felt a jolt run through my body. What was this feeling, this sudden awareness? Was that question for me? Was that person actually referring to me? But no one, not even the dreamer was supposed to suspect a changer was diverting their dream into another. It hasn't happened before… but what's going on? Is this actually happening now?
Taking a chance, I finally let out a small exhale before replying, "Me?"
"Yes, Miss Sakura." Another voice, harsh and dull spoke, snapping me awake.
Jerking to sit straight up, my eyes found its way to look at my professor glaring dangerously at me. "Is my class that boring to you?"
Uh, yeah. I thought how ridiculous his question was but remained quiet for the time being and twisted my mouth, showing a so-so answer. He narrowed his eyes at me and began to speak again, "If so, maybe you like to share your daydream with the rest of the class?"
I looked around, my attention now focused on so many eyes, either pitied or mocking as they stared in my direction. Licking my bottom lip, my eyes swept the rest of the room and fell on one particular head with hair covering his face, his closed eyes.
His eyes bore into my direction, serious and contemplating on what punishment should I endure.
Feeling myself being pulled back into the dream, I urged my eyes to focus on the only person napping in class, the dream still on-going as I whispered his name under my breath. "Natsume."
If I couldn't change the dream while sleeping, I must stop the dream in order not to get more in trouble.
"What was that Miss Sakura?" Professor Jinno demanded, his voice hard with dislike.
Red eyes opened and the look of disturbance made its way across his face. Feeling bad and yet relieved that it was Natsume's dream; I turned back to Jinno and shook my head, "I was trying to solve the math problem you gave to the class yesterday."
"And what does that have to do with the lesson I'm teaching today?" Jinno narrowed his eyes even more, which to me was impossible, but there's no one in this whole school (besides Natsume) who doesn't doubt about Professor Jinno's ability to make you feel intimidated.
"Your teaching in politics is more boring than math but at least math keeps people awake." I stated, telling half the truth even though we both know that in either class, I can't follow the hard questions he throws at us and fail otherwise.
"Then tell me, Sakura san," He lured, a smirk forming on the corners of his lips, "tell me the correct answer to the math problem and I will let you get off just this once."
Great. I thought I had this going quite well in my case, but really professor? Sighing, I look sideways towards the only fellow friends I had including Hotaru (best friend since birth), Anna and Nonoko (friends since elementary) and pouted, showing a look of silent help. Although, my other friend, Yuu (also known as Prez since he's the class representative) showed an apologetic face of concern, I knew no one would help me— not even that jerk Natsume that started this whole thing.
Swallowing my pride, I opened my mouth to say a random answer when the very person interrupted, his tone filled with annoyance, "It's no solution, obviously. Can you stop wasting precious time and continue teaching?"
Everyone's attention flew to the back where Natsume was sitting, their eyes widen at the fact that he had answered for me. Wait, did he just help me? I swallowed; my doe eyes blinked at his narrowed, irritated ones.
"Hyuuga, how nice of you to answer for your little girlfriend," Professor Jinno exclaimed behind us. I glanced back to see him glare at the direction of Natsume and even felt the anger towards me. Slumping in my seat, I opened my mouth to protest about the last part before he grunted and continued to downgrade Natsume and give him the slip to detention.
I lower my eyes, feeling bad that Natsume got the detention slip when it was originally for me. "And bring your girlfriend too." Jinno's voice made it known, pushing those downcast thoughts to the side as I lifted my head and met those crimson orbs.
"What?" I stuttered as I watched Natsume get up from his seat and walk towards us, "He's not my—"
"Come on, polka," Natsume grabbed my forearm and jerked me to a standing position as he pulled me to the front of the class and towards the exit with no moment hesitance.
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"It's raining down rocks; everyone to their stations!" A woman's voice cries aloud, a humongous explosion was heard from behind me.
I haven't quite got the grasp of blocking dreams with my mind yet as I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on getting out from the loads of dreams slamming into my mind as Natsume guides me down to the detention room. I feel his hand clench around my wrist. I bet he's looking at me, wondering what's wrong with me. But, I can't tell him what's going on, what sort of ability I have. I can't.
A shining ray of light blinds me as it radiates off a scorching heat. I can hear cries and screams all around me as they beg to the skies for rain or something to cool their tongues, their skin as the light hovers over them more.
I swallow; sweat protruding through my pores as Natsume leads me down a hall, passing more classes as each person inside the room dreams on, either containing graphics or nightmares.
"What is she doing here?" A raspy voice growled from the bushes, "You know outsiders aren't allowed in here!"
With a wicked laugh, the person with the hoarse voice turned out to have almost catlike eyes, glaring solely in my own. "I will tear you to shreds!"
Crying aloud, I slumped, halting Natsume who had almost reached the door. I breathed roughly, my head aching with so many dreams pulsing within me. As much as I wanted to alter those random people's dreams, I was stuck in one particular other— my own.
"Mikan," A voice sweetly made its way through all the jammed up dreams, "Don't be afraid. These dreams are nothing but drawings on a paper. You can easily just touch and erase them. They won't hurt you."
I know this voice but I can't decipher who it belongs to. Scrunching my face, I feel hot all over as if I had gotten down with a fever. My wrist hurts, my feet won't move from under me; I feel numb.
"Remember, you are in control of everyone's dreams you enter; you work behind the curtains, that's how special you are." The voice continues, sly and submersed with truth.
I remember having this dream before. But someone else was with me, someone I've known all my life. But who could it be?
"This is not a curse, Mikan." The voice laughs softly, "This is a gift that was passed down from generation to generation and now you have it. Don't waste such a great opportunity. Learn from it and you will continue to understand the meaning of this gift."
I remember those days in my childhood memories, so clearly. I had just entered my first couple of dreams and instead of altering them, without knowing, I had made them all into nightmares. When all those kids woke up, they were frightened of me, saying all sorts of things.
You're a witch, aren't you? You have powers, don't you? I didn't even know you before but after I saw you in my dreams, I suddenly now know who you are! I know what you are! You're a monster. Monster. MONSTER!
"No! Stop it!" I cried aloud, thrashing my arms against a boulder holding me down. Flashes of silhouettes with dark faces but white outlines of their curving smiles taunted me behind my closed eyelids. I fought, though, trying to erase those memories, those faces I've hurt, those dreams I turned into nightmares.
I didn't want this, I didn't ask for it. This gift was nothing but a curse for me, it did nothing but change who I was— what I am.
"Mikan," A strong hold ceased my kicks as I struggled under the weight, my eyes searching for an opening to wake up, "get a hold of your self."
"You can't get rid of this responsibility, Mikan. This gift is very rare." The voice added, allowing my old me to sink in her words, "With this, you can be in control of any dream, if not reality."
SSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssszzzzzzzzzssssss…
A static sound buzzed in my head, a small alert blaring off as the voice fades away, the trance disappears. This… what is going on? What's happening? This sudden change of events has never happened before.
Clang-clang!
Pounding of metal and sizzling of water, a steam rising from the red-charcoal sword.
This…
A lean figure suddenly stops his hammering and turns his head to the side. Beads of sweat had made his mass of black hair stick to the side of his face as a flash of red pair of eyes viewed towards my direction to my feet and back up. Was I being checked out?
"Coincidence meeting you here, neh?" His voice, low and deeply amused. He places down the hammer and sword and walks to the bench and grabs a pelt before heading towards me.
Bewildered at his behavior, and at my self, how did things turn out like this?
"It seems you're okay, polka." He stops before me, lifting the pelt and pushing it into my hands.
What is going on? Wasn't I in my own dream? How come I entered another? Then realization dawns on me. Wait, this dream, his face, eyes… polka? Wasn't this Natsume's dream?
"Natsume," I answered, my cheeks flamed as he referred to me as his favorite nickname, 'polka', an unforgettable incident I rather not mention. "How are you, I mean, how am I…? No, how dare you call me 'polka'! What part of me is wearing polka dots?!"
He rolls his eyes and views me up and down again. Giving him a disgusted look, he points down and my head seems to follow. A sudden gasps makes it pass my lips as I grasp myself dressed in a colonial dotted dress but with more of my bare chest revealed. Feeling myself blush at my stupidity, I couldn't help whirling around, covering my thorax and turning my head to glare up at him, "Pervert!"
Although the only thoughts that were running through my mind were, how in the world did I diverge myself from my dream to his? How is he seeing me in his dream? Wait, does he know? It can't be! I was explained long ago that no one who dreams I enter can notice me unless I talk to them… unless, if they do notice me from the beginning without even speaking a word, then that would mean they have powers, too! No a gift, just like me!
"But how?" I mumbled to myself, still questioning his motives.
Stepping forward, he locks onto my gaze, his eyes softening and roves over my face, my neck, my dress and back to my eyes. Slipping his hands around my waist, he pulls me close to his chest and bends down his head and whispers inches away from the side of my face, "Just pure coincidence."
I'm sure my face was blazed, matching the kindle for his sword or the flash of his eyes reflecting in the pools of my own but all I know— all I can recall is that there are some who say it's a curse; others, a gift. But this one person, this jerk made it seems like pure coincidence.
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End
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