That night, Amaya sat on her bed in her room, her lights out.
She had turned in for the night, and so had River. They were both exhausted. Their minds were a bit connected in that way; if one was tired, the other was too.
It was storming outside, and lightning flashed through her window curtains.
Amaya couldn't sleep though. She hadn't been able to sleep for a long time now- at least a couple weeks. Sometimes she would doze between classes, or in the afternoon after school.
But late at night, if she tried to sleep, she'd wake up screaming because of the nightmares.
Amaya's eyes felt like lead.
She'd realized something.
Her madness was always the hardest to control when she was tired. When she was wide awake, she seemed more sound of mind.
Maybe, Amaya thought, she should try to get some more sleep. She could really use it.
Amaya settled down into her bed, watching the lightning flash, and listening to the soothing sound of rain falling outside.
Her eyes drifted shut.
"My daughter..." A voice was in her head, quiet and soft like a whisper. A dream. She dreamt of the white-haired man.
He reached around the shoulders of her dream-self and whispered in her ear. She could imagine his pointed teeth, cutting into his gums whenever he closed his mouth. The blood dripping onto his tongue.
"Come with me, my daughter," the man whispered to her. "We can be so powerful together."
She felt fingernails clench into her shoulder, forcing her around.
His eyes were in front of his face, bloodshot and crazy.
His breath was rotten- he kept staring at her, his grin growing wider and wider. His eyes getting more insane.
He lunged at her-
Amaya woke up, screaming, her legs tangled in her sheets. She crashed on to the floor, still thrashing around, fighting away her dream.
"Amaya!" she heard River's voice beside her. He put a hand on her arm, and crouched down.
She opened her eyes and saw him there, shirtless and wearing his pajama bottoms. His birthmark was prominent against his collarbones.
"Amaya, are you alright?" he asked, gently.
She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly, trying to keep her tears at bay.
She'd tried to be strong against everything. But it all just kept piling up, more and more, on top of each other. She didn't even feel like the same girl sometimes. She'd be angry one day, happy the next, then she'd turn stark raving mad.
"Do you want to sleep in my room again?" River asked, rubbing her shoulder.
Amaya stood up, nodding.
"What are these nightmares even about?" River inquired, as they made their way back to his room in the dark.
Amaya gulped.
"My father..." She replied in a whisper.
River opened his door, and let her in first.
Her bare feet padded softly against his cold wood floors.
She laid down on his bed and he followed.
"It'll be okay," River told her. "They're just dreams."
She turned over to face him and he pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her. Usually, when they slept in the same room, they'd stay apart from each other. They'd never actually fallen asleep with each other.
But tonight, Amaya laid her head on his bare chest, feeling his heart beat against her cheek. She felt protected.
Let her father come and get her, then.
For now she had River. He was right here beside her, keeping her safe.
The curtains lit up with the angry weather outside, but Amaya breathed easy.
Her head lolled to the side, and she fell asleep for the first time in over a week.
"Night," River whispered, but she was already out.
...
Amaya sneaked into Professor Stein's room and set a flashlight on his desk.
That would be easy to take apart. Amaya had almost started taking things apart, herself, desperate for an out.
At least she wasn't as tired this morning, because of River.
Amaya smiled and turned away from his desk.
"Aha," the lights flicked on, and Stein stood at the top of the stairs, one hand in a pocket, his expression blank.
"Professor Stein," Amaya gasped.
"I told myself I was going to find out if it were you leaving items on my desk," Stein said, a mad look in his eye. "I thought... maybe I was going crazy."
He laughed once, loudly.
"Yes, I leave things on your desk for you," Amaya admitted, hugging her books against her chest.
"Why?" he barked.
"Finding things to leave for you helps me deal with my own madness," Amaya replied.
Stein walked down the stairs, slowly. Almost intimidatingly.
"Your own madness," Stein repeated, blinking.
"Yes. Every day I fight it," Amaya said.
"Why do you fight it when you know that one day you'll finally lose?" Stein asked, in monotone. "That all of your struggles were for nothing?"
"You told me to, Professor," Amaya replied. "You told me to fight it and never give up. So that's what I'm going to do."
Stein blinked, as if he were trying to clear his head. He put a hand to his temple.
When he looked back up, he seemed more in control.
"I have a question to ask you, Professor Stein," Amaya added.
He looked at her expectantly.
"With your madness... do you have nightmares?" Amaya asked, quietly.
Stein turned the bolt at the side of his head in an attempt to clear his mind.
"Only when I'm awake," he replied, seriously.
"I have these dreams..." Amaya started, feeling the urge to tell someone. "They involve my father, telling me to come back with him."
"Your father," Stein repeated, stopping the rotation of his cranial appendage and studying her carefully. "Describe him."
"Wh-what?" Amaya asked.
"Describe him; what man do you see in your dreams?" Stein asked again.
"He has," Amaya gulped, "three eyes, white-blond hair. Pointed teeth. He smells like blood."
Stein watched her carefully as she spoke, his expression guarded.
"Those aren't dreams," Stein told her, calmly. "Your father must still be alive, projecting himself into your subconscious, trying to send you a message."
"Still alive?!" Amaya gasped.
"Yes," Stein replied. "Now that I think back to that night, Spirit never got your father's soul. He could have found refuge and healed over the years."
"What?!" Amaya reared back, in alarm, a blue color coming into her face.
"How long have you been having these dreams?" Stein asked.
"A couple of weeks," Amaya replied, weakly.
"I'm surprised you're not dead already," Stein said, pushing his glasses up. "It's unusual for a Kishin to wait so long."
"What do I do?" Amaya asked, worried.
"Never be alone," Stein answered. "Have someone with you at all times. When you sleep, don't be in the room by yourself. And whatever you do, don't go mad." He gave her a pointed look. "The more the madness eats at you, the more willing you'll be to accept irrational ideas."
Amaya listened to him with wide eyes. He reached onto his desk and picked up the flashlight she'd left there.
He quietly began taking it apart, setting the pieces in a row.
"And practice fighting," Stein added, looking back up at her. "Kishin have god-like abilities. If you want to have any chance at survival, you'd better start training. Excessively."
"Oh no," Amaya groaned, putting her head in her hands. "Why do things like this always happen to me?"
"Here," Stein handed her a piece of blank paper, like the kind he'd been ripping up. "You're going to need this."