Hello! It's sayain673!
I was researching the medical dictionary for the operation scene in my Black Cat fic Come Back to Me and I came across the mental section. Narutally, boredom kicked in and I read some of it. I came across multiple personality disorder and I fell in love with an idea: What if Keitaro had an alter ego created, subconsciously, over the days he was at the Hinata-Sou ?
DISCLAIMER- I do not own Love Hina. Ken Akamatsu does. I do not own Inception either. Some other guy does. I only own the alter ego, whose name will be revealed later.
A/N- I wrote this listening to "The Dream is Collapsing" and the theme from "Requiem for a Dream". While the first one is/was food for thought, the theme from "Requiem for a Dream" is the song for this story.
Dissociative Identity Disorder: Also known as multiple personality disorder, it is a common mental disorder in which two or more personalities alternate control of the body. Symptoms include, but are not limited to, insufficient protection and nurture during childhood, abnormal psychological development, overwhelming stress and abuse.
Prologue- Happy Birthday
Pain.
Anger.
Hate.
Desire.
On the day he was born, he was blind, and deaf. He could see nothing but darkness in the abyss he was in. He couldn't hear anyone else with him. He was alone; in a strange world; in the dark unknown, but he was in a world of calm. He felt something warm embrace him, cleansing him and giving him comfort.
But nothing prepared him for the pain.
He screamed as the first wave of pain pushed him out of the deepest recesses of the abyss. He felt the force of a god pound his chest and he screamed again when another enveloped his head like a vice, trying to crush him into nothing.
He expelled an agonizing cry when he felt something sharp rip through his chest, whimpering as it pushed him further out of the abyss. He felt it again, only with more force, more intent to kill. He cried for clemency from his unknown attacker but his plea was drowned out in his own screams. He now was aware of something happening on the surface, high above the abyss. He frantically clawed his way out of the abyss, the pain still pushing him out. He was released and he fell to the ground, blinking the dust out of his eyes.
He could now see! He saw an expanse of the earth, stretching on to a small playground; an endless canvas of innocence and purity. He heard the sound of water to his right and turned to see what made the noise. He saw a sea, the shores of subconscious, smashing into a beach of brown sand, cleaning the shores and taking in thoughts left on the world.
He was in Limbo, the fourth level of the mind and dream.
He walked onto the beach and gazed into the water and his refection peered back at him, rippling in the tides. His black hair blew in the seashore wind and sand got into his deep, brown eyes. He was naked, but he didn't care; who was going to se him?
He gave a small smile walked along the beach, thinking that Limbo would be a nice place to stay. But he slowly saw a redness come onto the sand and stain the ground, making violent gashes and splotches onto the ground. He then noticed the crimson go towards him, in a furious wave, full of malice.
Terrified, he tried to get away, but as he backpedaled, his vision flashed and his eyes burned with a pain akin to the fires of hell. He cried and covered his eyes, but when he took his hands away, he was no longer in the white field and the sea. He saw six feminine figures cloaked in black and radiating hellfire, looking down on him with malice in their eyes. Hands raised up in an attempt to shield the person that he was viewing from, but a figure with hair like hell's flames smashed into his face. He heard a howl of agony, not his own, and saw another one take a blade to his body, sending the viewer to the sky and a little demon drove her fist into the body of the owner and he flew into the sky again.
His vision then seared, turing an angry red and orange before he returned to his normal eyesight, but to his horror the crimson reared up and smashed him in his face. He moaned and clutched his head, but his brief respite was interrupted by another wave of red that approached him and ripped through his chest. He screamed, filled with terror and confusion at why he was attacked; he was a newborn, fresh into the world! He had done nothing wrong!
But the crimson thought otherwise, driving into him with a sadistic glint to it and he was launched into the empty sky. He felt the impact rattle his teeth as he flew and, to his horror, the ground come up to embrace him. He braced himself, but as he landed, he felt a sickening crunch and an intense agony exploded in the back of his head and he blacked out.
Coming to, he groaned and rubbed his head. He opened his eyes and found that he was in a desert with a cloudy sky. A big differencewas that there was no brown beach or a sea of any kind. You could always hear the sea in Limbo, wherever one was. He was confused as to how he how he got here. Was he moved? He shook his head, remembering that he was in the dream-state and came to realize that he was a level up from Limbo.
He hadn't realized it at first, but he became extremely thirsty and began wandering in the unbeareable heat of the desert. But he colapsed and began to crawl, trying to get near a water source. He thought he heard something, yelling in the distance. Then, he was aware of voices washing overhead, slightly distorted by light-headed-ness. It sounded like an argument between two people. He figured that it was a hallucination brought about by dehydration and began to listen in.
" ABSOLUTELY NOT!" a voice exclaimed, a high pitch scream that peirced through his ears. He heard a familiar voice try and reason with it, but it cut him off. "I SAID NO AND THAT MEANS NO!"
A voice was heard, trying to reason with the other, but it was dust in the wind in comparison to the former one. "THIS PLACE IS AN ALL GIRLS DORMITORY! I WOULD NEVER LET A PERVERT LIKE YOU STAY HERE EVEN FOR A DAY!"
Thoughts suddenly flashed and cruised through his mind and he saw the "perverted" actions that his original, a man named Keitaro, had done. This was no hallucination. This was real, but he wondered why he was seeing this. Then it struck him, harder than the red wave.
He was a fragment. A shade of the original, Keitaro, created at the moment of impact.
And he- no both of them- suffered unjustly at the hands of violent bitches. And now he heard that Keitaro was to become the girls' manager- a nice term for slave, he scoffed in his mind when he saw the work he had to do.
Unaware of his surroundings, too busy thinking, the desert bacame much more hot, much more humid and he began sweating at an uncontrolable rate. He slumped to the ground, his throat dry and sore. He soon awaited death, which he was sure was coming for him.
At that moment, he felt something seep into ground, a wetness pooling near his body. He was aprehensive at first, thinking it was a hallucination, but soon realized that it was real water. He crawled towards it and set his eyes on it and they were not deceiving him. But the water was not clear, but rather an orange-yellow, not brought on by the dry, gloden sand.
He didn't care as long as it would quench his thirst. Putting his lips to the moisture, he began to suck at it. The water was very hot, but he managed to get it down. He was careful to not swallow any sand, but some managed to get in, causing him to cough, but he did not mind.
After he was done, he picked himself up from the ground and shivered. His body suddenly ceased being hot and became cold, but it was a pleasant feeling. Feeling the cold heat, he laughed- a bone-chilling laugh that swept the desert in a sandstorm of madness.
One day, they would have their revenge. All he had to do was endure the pain that would bring him up the levels. All he had to do was wait for the moment; the moment to strike; the moment to begin the breaking.
His eyes, no longer brown, shone with a malevolent fire; one orange-yellow, one silver-grey as he plotted the destruction of the women that tormented him and his brother.
Pain was the midnurse present at his birth.
Anger is what burned in his heart at the injustices of the world.
Hate is what he consumed to survive.
And the desire to see them suffer glinted in his eyes.
So whadaya think? Like it, or love it?
Please Review!
Now to write the next chappie for Coming Back to Me.
In addition, there will be many symbolisms/allusions in this fic and in like Come Back to Me, there will be a hunt! And what is a hunt without a reward? Find a litterary element, PM me or post a review and you will get an honorable mention in the next volume!
Let's give you a few examples.
The color and the temperature of the water: It gives life, but it was orange-yellow color (the color of fire, which is the symbol of destruction and hatred). In addition, while the flames of hatred burn a high temperature, revenge is best served COLD, the feeling he felt after he partook in the water.
Brown is the color of a caretaker/guardian (color of the earth, i.e. nurturing.). The fact that he canged is signiffigant.
The use of fire and ice (silver) may be a foreshadow...
Next Time- Entry Point