Children of the Mirror
...9th Part: Dark...
I woke up, not to something prodding y shoulder as one would expect, but to eyes. Unblinking golden eyes, just staring at me.
"Ah! Geez, when did you get there!?" I found myself looking around for a clock.
Krad shrugged his bare shoulders. He was sitting on the edge of my bed... in a towel. I rolled my eyes at him and got up to look for some clothes. Hopefully, we were the same size.
And there was something else unusual about him, too – other than the insane expression in his eyes; eyes that never seemed to blink. I just couldn't quite place what it was, though.
I grabbed a pair of dark jeans and tried to find something with color on it. I had never seen Krad wear black, and I thought it would be a little weird to see him wearing it now. That's when I realized how colorless my wardrobe really was. Black, red, some dark purple, more black... I pulled out a red shirt finally and tossed the clothes to him.
I was almost surprised to see that his arms moved to catch them. He'd hardly moved at all since I found him – and before that, I assumed.
He got up and ventured back to the bathroom to get dressed. As I watched him walk, I realized just what it was about him that had confused me: his hair. It was down, out of the ponytail I'd always seen it in, and his hair was slightly darker and heavier-looking because it was still damp.
I was pulled out of my moment of enlightenment by my mother's voice. "Dark! Come down for supper!"
"Okay! Just a sec!" I shouted back, and tapped at the bathroom door. "Hey Krad? I'll be back in a bit. Don't come downstairs."
I didn't hear an answer. I hoped he was nodding.
"Dark?" My mom again.
"Alright, already! I'm coming!"
. . .
I should've known there would be interrogation. Man, was I slow today.
"So why isn't your hair wet?" my dad asked.
"What?"
"I heard the shower running upstairs. Your hair's not wet, though."
I found this observation profoundly stupid. "You know my hair dries fast."
"Does it?"
"Yes!"
"Sanrou, stop asking silly questions and let Dark eat his food," my mother scolded him. I could've laughed, but I didn't. Mom saves the day.
Well, she did, until Krad ruined it. There was a loud thunk upstairs.
"What was that?" Now my mom was getting suspicious.
"...Cat?" I suggested. There was that hesitant guilt in my voice that meant I was better off saying nothing at all.
"Dark, you know we don't have a cat."
I gulped. "Don't we? ...Oh." That was a worse cover-up than my last statement. I didn't know what I was so worried about. Surely they wouldn't mind Krad being here. I could bring pretty much anyone here and the most they would do was scowl and give me a lecture when whoever it was went home. Oh, yeah... Krad wasn't going home...
My dad stood up and was about to go investigate, but he didn't have to.
Krad walked down the stairs. "Dark, I think I..." He looked at my dad and his voice trailed off. "...broke... something..."
On the bright side, my parents weren't mad for anything; just dumbfounded. And that insane glazed look in Krad's eyes had gone away, for the most part.
I would have some explaining to do, though.
. . .
I didn't tell my parents about the murders, but somehow I managed to make an excuse for him to stay the night without really saying much at all.
It was late, now, and we sat on my bed, just talking.
"We have to leave," Krad said. "I can't stand these dreams any longer."
"Well, where do you think we would go?" I pointed out. "And even if we did figure that out, how would going anywhere prevent us from dreaming?"
Krad shrugged and shook his head. "I think we have to find something."
"Find what?"
"I don't know."
I glared at him. "Stop saying that! It's your idea, you must know something! And how can we find it if we don't know what it is we're looking for? That doesn't make any sense."
"Don't you have that feeling, though?" he asked. "That something's pulling us away from all of this?" He gestured with his arms to display my room – and moreover, everything we knew.
I considered this for a while. "Well, yeah... but –"
"See? We have to go!"
I repeated, "Go where?"
"I told you I don't know!" He lunged across the bed at me, and soon we were fighting and yelling at each other, bringing across me that déjà vu feeling again.
I didn't hear my mom coming up the stairs. By then we had fallen off the bed onto the floor – which hurt – and were beating on each other down there. She opened the door and flipped on the light before either of us noticed her. Even then we weren't done fighting.
"Boys! Stop it!" she yelled. My father came up behind her and they had to drag us apart, keeping us locked in their grasp until we cooled off.
Krad still glared at me, and I glared back.
"Now what's the meaning of all this?" my dad demanded.
"It's nothing," Krad told him before I could. I think both my parents were surprised that he was the one to answer.
"It sure didn't look like nothing," my mother put in. "What's going on?"
"It's nothing," I said, echoing Krad's answer.
"Just a stupid fight," he agreed.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"Sorry," he echoed.
My parents looked understandably confused, but they let go of us, warning us to not start fighting again and not to wake them up.
"Love you guys," I called quietly after them, and turned back to Krad. "Fine," I gave in. "We're leaving."
That fight reminded me too much of the dreams to ignore it.