Disclaimer: Tenipuri is MINE, all MINE. HAHAHAHA. Okay fine. Maybe not. This is the first of a series of Short Fics, which are going to be posted individually. This disclaimer applies to all of them.
1.
Title: Sleep
Author: Kitchuu
Pairings: Atobe/Jirou
Warnings: Dark
Summary: Jirou likes sleeping, and everyone knows. What they don't know is why.
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Jirou likes to sleep.
Everybody knows this, and everybody that didn't now knows.
People call him narcoleptic, and when they do, and he's awake, he smiles at them. He never nods.
Jirou is not narcoleptic. He is prone to falling asleep randomly, but he is not narcoleptic. The doctors have tried time and time again to prove otherwise. Every time they fail.
Many people have asked Jirou how he can stand sleeping through most of his life.
He smiles and tells them that they would too, if dreams were better than life.
They ask him what if he has a nightmare.
He says he never has nightmares.
They never ask again. Sooner or later they forget they had ever asked in the first place. Those are the fortunate ones. Those that don't find themselves often wondering what the blonde dreamed about.
There are only four people in the world that know, and one is dead. They know because Jirou told them. If anyone else had asked, he would tell them too. But nobody else asked.
Jirou knows.
Oshitari Yuushi knows, because Yuushi knows everything. He asked a simple question. He received a simple answer. They never talked about it again.
The second person that asked, was some random upper classmen from long ago. He liked picking on the younger students, and he liked picking on Jirou. One day, Jirou smiled and asked him if he could shut up and let him sleep. The sempai sneered and asked him why. Jirou wanted to sleep because Jirou wanted to dream, and he told him as much. So the sempai asked him what he dreamed about, and Jirou told him.
Some weeks later, the sempai's body was found in an alley behind a bar. Nobody ever connected the two events.
And Atobe knows, because Atobe is Jirou's boyfriend of two years. Atobe sat on his bed one night and held him close, and asked. Jirou smiled that same smile, and told him. He told him how he dreamed of crimson red. He dreamed of world domination, and he dreamed of death. He dreamed of plagues and disease and pain. And he dreamed of himself at the center of the world, being last surviving member of the human race. But most importantly, he dreamed of Atobe. Atobe listened, and Jirou smiled. And when he was done answering, Atobe had leaned over, kissed him, and told him to sleep.
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.:Owari:.
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