Summary:

A dream so small became a memory forgotten. He didn't want to die this way, so what did he do? "What if the dreamers traveled into me?" The dream, with a gleeful cry, became a nightmare without even knowing way. All it knew was that it couldn't return to the joy it used to give. Four dreamers will meet this dream and plummet to their grizzly demises.

Pairings:

I don't see any in the near future of these chapters. Well, there will be a bit 10001, but more in a love-hate way. There might be 6996, too, in later chapters.

Warnings:

Violence is heavily emphasized, especially in the First Alice's chapter. There will be certain scenes that can be disturbing.

Disclaimer:

D-San owns nothing of KHR! All merchandise belongs to Akira Amano and TV Tokyo.


White hair was fashioned in layered spikes, some of these spikes falling to frame his cherubic face. Milky violet eyes examined the grand dancing hall, the glittering crystal chandelier rivaling the glimmering champagne that sat in the small flute that was cradled in between slender fingers. Byakuran perused the ballroom, looking for the girl who was so fondly dreaming about him. He knew that the dreamer was a girl because of the setting. Males dreamed a dream more practical; their thoughts were so focused on the real world that their settings were anything but fanciful. In fact, Byakuran was placed into a cubicle many times. Men were always lonely creatures; it was a rare occurrence to find a man completely content with his life. Females dreamed a dream more vivid; they made beautiful environments with flowers that didn't exist but that were perfect in their own rights. Butterflies of different colors would flit all about, and a beautiful waterfall would be roaring somewhere in the distance. The woman would always look stunning; her own brand of physical perfection. Byakuran would be their confession box for eight whole hours; the females would be satisfied by the end of the night and so would Byakuran; sex would be an added bonus. Little boys and girls dreamed the same dreams basically; they liked excitement and fun. The only difference was that boys liked to be warriors, and girls liked to be princesses.

This girl wanted to be a princess. She wanted to dance and wear beautiful flowing gowns and have her hair twisted into voluminous curls. He was on the hunt for his mistress for tonight. When he finally found her, she looked a bit more subdued than he thought she would. Her dark brown hair was gathered into a bun at the back of her head with long strands falling down to her lower back. Colored beads and white pearls embellished her bun. Her large brown doe eyes scanned the room of faceless sophisticates, looking for only one. Byakuran straightened out his sleeveless vest, and deadened his footsteps so that he could sneak up on the beautiful dame. She spotted him, though, before he could even get within hugging distance. She flew into his arms, knocking the flute of champagne to the marble floor. The liquid did not spread and make a mess; rather it glimmered and stayed in a uniform shape at their feet. This girl was a control freak; she liked things uniform and perfect, including herself. It would explain why her eyelashes were long and separated, and why her body was in perfectly attractive proportions. This was a teenage girl; she loved the beauty, the finesse, the attention. Byakuran would make her dreams come true.

"May I have this dance, princess?" Byakuran's heart swelled when her pink lips parted to reveal straight, pearl white teeth. He liked seeing that smile on dreamers; it made his existence worth while.

Byakuran and the girl started to twirl together, the sizable crowd parting to watch their beauty. Byakuran was a master at guiding the girl's body along the floor, one hand on her cinched waist and the other wrapped around her petite hand. Her deep red gown billowed out behind her with every spiral, and her pale cheeks were red with excitement and teenage amour. Byakuran had a passive smile on his face, but the glimmer in his eyes was enough for it to appear that he looked interested. She couldn't have asked for a better dancing partner. Byakuran couldn't remember the last time he had danced in such an elaborate dream. The two did their last rounds, and then parted from each other.

Byakuran had more work to do. The girl was set to wake up soon, so he didn't feel guilty about leaving her in the middle of her dream. He was instead called to another dream; a heavy steel door opened in front of him. There was the feeling of something hopeful beyond the door; a man's door. Byakuran nodded, and placed his hand on the doorknob. He was good about entering the dreams of men; they expected punctuality and straight-forwardness. Byakuran could do that with no problem. He pushed the door open, and slid through the small crack he had created. Without even a good-bye, he left the girl to revel in her perfect world.

~ * ( - ) * ~

This dream was a strange one. The man's house was torn asunder; pictures were knocked off of their respective shelves and walls and were shattered. A toy soldier was at the man's feet, and the carpet had patches torn out of it. There was a single blue chair in the middle of the room with chains wrapped around the legs of it. The man was standing behind the chair, his eyes hollow. When Byakuran stepped out of limbo, he shut the steel door behind him with a resounding bang! The male looked up at Byakuran and his eyes suddenly sparked back to life. He moved to toss the chair aside, but paused. Byakuran raised an eyebrow when the man let out an enraged snarl and stepped around the chair.

"Fight me!" The man yelled. Byakuran was taken aback; he'd never been in a dream where he was told to participate in a physical battle. The man looked ordinary, perhaps sadly so. His brown hair was shoulder long and shaggy, and there were bald patches in his scraggly beard. His attire consisted of a dark gray t-shirt and light washed jeans with holes in strange places. He wasn't very muscular, and he didn't look very smart. "Fight me now!"

"You asked for it, man."

Byakuran and the man stood a few meters away from each other; the room was surprisingly large. The man lunged at Byakuran, bringing his fist back to punch the younger, more virile male in the face. Byakuran caught the male's hand and lifted him, slamming him across the chair's seat. The older male cried out in pain, gritting his teeth while a wry grin made its way onto his face.

"Harder...hit me harder..."

Byakuran raised an eyebrow, but proceeded to beat the male. He wasn't trying to mortally injure the man; he just inflicted enough injury to get the man to start crying. It seemed that it was what the man wanted. When the tears started to fall, Byakuran climbed off of the man and stood in front of him. The man stood up slowly, wiped his mouth, and then walked over to a shelf where a picture lay frame-down. His large hand gingerly wrapped around the edge of the frame. His face contorted in pain when he flipped the frame over and stared at the picture. Byakuran drew closer to the man to see it. It was a picture of a gorgeous woman; her hair was dark brown and fell in curly rivulets down her petite back. Her stomach was large and protruding and was visible from underneath the layers of tulle that composed her dress. She was already holding a small toddler by the hand, his blonde hair sitting in a misconstrued mess atop his small head. The man placed the picture back down, face down, and sat on the blue chair.

"She was all I had...and I hit her. I'm a scumbag who doesn't deserve to live..." Byakuran shrugged. He was taught to be neutral when it came to a dreamer's personal life. What he said in his dreams could influence them in a negative way, and if a dreamer died, it had a negative effect on dreams like him. "I just need to keep fighting...I need to beat something..."

Byakuran decided that it was the right time to retreat. The steel door opened behind him again, and he fled the room before the man could find the courage to lunge at him again.

~ * ( - ) * ~

The place where dreams dwell is large, yet dark. There are large arced windows that let a blue light shine on a stained-glass portrait of the earth; the first substantial dream that God had ever had. On this portrait stood the Dream of Love, Yuni, the Dream of Revenge, Hibari Kyoya, and the Dreams of Falling and Death, the interchangeable Rokudo Mukuro and Dokuro Chrome. They were almost always never in the world of dreams, because they were dreamed of so frequently. Yuni was dreamt of the most. People loved Love, and often wanted it for themselves. Sometimes, fantasy gave them the best expression of love that they could ever have. Yuni was the Dream poster child for emotional and spiritual love; things that were rare to find in the real world. Hibari was dreamt of just as much as Yuni. He led dreamers to feed their hatred and lash out at those who had wronged them. Mukuro and Chrome; they were considered the Shock Dreams: they weren't so horrid that they were considered nightmares, but they certainly gave their dreamers a wake-up call they easily recovered from. They mainly focused on the insecurities of dreamers, not the fears. They were greatly respected by the other Dreams; all except Hibari and Byakuran.

Well, Byakuran didn't respect any dream, really.

Amongst other dreams, he was incredibly small and fragile. He was dressed like a clown; he wore red and white striped pants and had a white ruff collar around his neck. He was embarrassed by his appearance, but what could he do? He was only just recently dreamt of. Still, Mukuro and Hibari taunted him.

"Kufufufufufu, look at little Byakuran~. Did you have a rough time of it tonight?" Mukuro prodded tiny Byakuran with his trident, and Byakuran yelped in indignation.

"Tiny herbivore. He probably just wasted a good eight hours we could have used ourselves." Hibari kicked at Byakuran, making him cry out in fear. That was when Yuni intervened and picked Byakuran up.

"Stop that, both of you!" Yuni said. She looked down at Byakuran and smiled. "It's alright, Byakuran. You don't have to cry anymore."

Byakuran hugged Yuni's chin, making her giggle. Mukuro and Hibari huffed and turned away from the tiny whining Dream and the most adored Dream. Chrome was quiet until now, but now she tugged at Mukuro's coat sleeve. He leaned down to Chrome's height just so that she could whisper something into his ear. Something that he hadn't noticed until she pointed it out. Glancing at Byakuran's small form, his mouth contorted into a twisted grin. Hibari stared at Mukuro, and then glanced at Byakuran. Soon, his face got the same horrific grin on it.

"Byakuran, you look a tiny bit smaller than usual." Mukuro purred.

"I do not! I actually got bigger!" Byakuran bragged with a smile. His smile fell drastically when Mukuro and Hibari just laughed. It was derisive, taunting; a laugh a bully howled before beating his victim and taking what was most precious to him. "Wh-what?"

"You're a puny herbivore." Hibari said. He was smirking, which was a frightening sight to those in the Dream world.

"I am not!" Byakuran held onto Yuni's chin, glaring at the other dreams with beady black eyes. "I'm big! I'm powerful! People love me!"

"Byakuran-san." He looked up at Yuni, whose blue eyes looked apologetic. He didn't know why, though. Why did Yuni look this way? Byakuran looked over to Chrome. She looked that way, too! Mukuro was covering a grin that threatened to split his face in two. Hibari's smirk grew, and his eyes narrowed. It was truly frightening; why was Byakuran being subjected to this treatment?

"Yuni-chan? Wh-what's wrong? You need to dream, too! I see; I'll give you the dance of a lifetime! You'll be able to eat everything you've ever wanted without getting fat!"

"That's not it, Byakuran-san." Yuni said. "You see, something happens to all tiny dreams. Eventually, they aren't dreamt of anymore. These dreams have a short, powerful run before they go away. They're usually reborn again, or they turn into..." Mukuro's grin fell, Hibari's smirk dropped, and Chrome trembled behind Mukuro. Byakuran's face was that of a child who had just seen some unspeakable horror transpire before his very eyes. His mouth was agape, his eyes were wide, and tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. "Byakuran-san..."

"Y-you don't be-believe in me..."

"That's not true, Byakuran-san!" Yuni said. She hugged the small man to her cheek, but he didn't respond positively. He broke away from Yuni, and ran away from the other dreams. He could hear Chrome trying to console a sobbing Yuni, and the taunting sing-song tones of Mukuro and Hibari reverberated off of the windows and into tiny Byakuran's head. He ran far away, so far that he wasn't sure that he was in the realm of dreams at all.

He wasn't.

He was full-grown, his face handsome and his clothes cool, not ridiculous. Looking around, he saw nothing but green. It was a strange color for a backdrop; he half-expected red or black or white. Yet, there was none of that. Green was a peculiar color; perhaps more peculiar than the male that was standing at the mouth of a sole lake. He kicked his legs and grinned and twirled in place.

"Who are you?" Byakuran asked with an amused smirk. Now that he was at his full height, he felt confident. The kid was smaller than he was, with a head of flaming red hair and sad red eyes. Even though he was smiling, he looked positively downtrodden.

"My name is Kozato Enma." The boy nodded to Byakuran, and then looked down into the water. "What's your story?"

"I was just betrayed by someone." Byakuran said with a despondent sigh. "What's your story?"

"I'm in limbo." Enma simply responded. He slapped the water with his foot, and tried to jump. He was tossed back by something unidentifiable. Byakuran had to stifle his laugh. "See? I can't hop over."

"That's unfortunate." Byakuran said. His subdued chuckle came through his lips. "I suppose that I am in limbo, too."

"What's your story?"

"We've been through this."

"I don't believe so." Byakuran restrained himself from slamming his palm into his face. "Besides, you didn't give me your real story. I think that you've been through a lot more than you're letting on."

"Perhaps..."

Byakuran told his story. He was a dream; a small one, but a happy one. He would make people feel at ease, and he would give them a good time for eight hours. He would be an escort to a beautiful princess or a fellow warrior beside a hero in a war between two kingdoms. Or, he would be a counselor to men trapped in cubicles, or he would be a woman's fanciful lover. He was so many things, but then...

"And those two fucking bastards, Rokudo Mukuro and Hibari Kyoya! They told me I was puny and tiny! And Yuni-chan...she doesn't believe in me."

"Sounds rough. I'm a Nightmare. Insecurity. I want to be a dream. Strength. I can't hop over. Pity." Byakuran snorted; his story was short. Nothing like his. Nightmares didn't really have long stories to begin with. They were even smaller than the smallest, weakest dreams. This one was pretty big. Was he compensating for his true size?

"How big are you as a Nightmare?"

"This is my size. I don't like being a Nightmare. I prefer being here. I've been trying to hop over this...thing, for over a millennium." Enma reached his hand out over the water, and then invited Byakuran to take a seat beside him. Byakuran stood beside him, and frowned.

"I don't want people to forget about me, Enma. I want to be dreamt about forever." Byakuran lamented.

"Then do something about it. That's how Lust became a Nightmare. Adelheid didn't want to be forgotten about as a Dream, so she became a more potent Nightmare."

"How long did she survive?" Byakuran inquired.

Enma smiled, taking some of the water and running it through his hair. "A long while. She's still alive, actually."

"That's amazing!" Byakuran said with bright eyes and a wide childish smile. "You Nightmares really live a long time, don't you?"

Enma shrugged, and slowly stood up onto his two feet. His face became grave as he caught the almost predatory gleam in Byakuran's eyes. "I have to warn you, though. Being a Nightmare sucks. If you really want to be one, go ahead. But you won't have any friends. You'll be all alone. In the end, it'll suck."

Byakuran shook his head, and only patted Enma on his small shoulder. "I don't need friends. I need to be dreamt of."

Byakuran disappeared through a heavy steel door that lead into the crimson beyond of the Nightmare world. Enma just shrugged, and then chided himself when he realized what he did. But, he figured, it would be beneficial for him in the end. After millenniums of trying to hop over the same pit, he would finally get his chance.

If Byakuran ran his course as a Nightmare, of course.


D-San: Hi, everybody! So, two chapters out in one day. I'm done for tonight, K? I think I should write this during the day, honestly...But anyway, this chapter didn't freak me out. We never got the Dream's side of the story in HSA, so I thought "Hey. Let's see the back story." So, everything about how the dream became so vendictive is speculated in this chapter. Whether you follow this speculation or not is up to you.

Leave me a review. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Oh. And I just recently jumped on the Black Butler bandwagon.

YAOI-RIFFIC! Grell is my favorite, Ciel comes in at a close second, Sebastian at a close third. I love all of them. Alois is creepy as fuck. ewe But still cute.