Every time Hitori sleeps, he dreams. He hoped, once, that the nightmares would leave him alone, but by now they're a fact of life. Hitori falls asleep, he dreams, he wakes up just as exhausted as before, and the cycle repeats itself. There are medicines he could try that might give him dreamless sleep, he's heard. Hitori considers them, and can't decide if his weakness is the part of him that wants them or the part that doesn't.

He has two dreams. The first, the most common one, goes like this:

Hitori is in the lab underneath the school. The heat presses against him, so thick that he can barely breathe, and it's so bright that he has to squint to see anything. Nageki stares at him from across the fire-blocked doorway, glares with all the venom he shouldn't have, and despite the noise, Hitori can hear him perfectly when he says, again and again, "This is your fault." When Hitori wakes up, he's already slurring apologies that he knows will never be enough, and Nageki pets him and reminds him that he hates him. And Hitori spends the rest of the night awake, begging for the forgiveness he knows he'll never receive.

But sometimes it's different. Sometimes, Hitori finds Nageki in a sunset-lit field, and Nageki smiles at him. Says, "I miss you. I love you," and places a wing over Hitori. Hitori leans against him and closes his eyes to the lull of the gentle warmth-

And wakes up. And Nageki reminds him that this is what they could have had, if he hadn't screwed everything up.

It's these nightmares, the deceiving ones, that he despises the most. But they're also why he loves to sleep, never tries to stay awake when the fatigue gets too strong: because as little as he deserves it, he always hopes for that moment of peace in the field where Nageki loves him like he used to.