A/N: Hello my lovely readers~ Okay I know I said I'd post the special soon but I've gone into a complete writing block an has come up. So I decided that maybe I should just take requests. :D Alright so just PM me or put it your review or whatever and I'll get back to you. So for now, here's chapter 8!

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiroomi saw a familiar car flash past. Was that…?

Mirai interrupted his thoughts. "I wouldn't say it's heavy…It feels stagnate." Hiroomi was a little annoyed at having his train of thought broken and pressed his mouth together, forming a thin line. Akihito dodged a look sideways at his companions and noticed the almost undetectable waves of irritation undulating off the male. Then he blinked, and it was gone.

Hiroomi looked around. "Where's Mitsuki?" He said, slightly alarmed. He had been too engrossed in his thoughts to notice that his sister, his sister, had gone missing.

"Oh! She left, earlier, while you were still with Shindou-san, saying she needed to do something." Mirai shook her head, her pink hair shaking left and right. "But I don't know where."

Hiroomi looked at her and sighed quietly. "I see. Thank you." He said, offering a small smile.

Mirai's eyes widened and she reddened, dodging looks left and right before letting out a cry of realisation and excused herself for some sale or other. The honey-eyed male bid her farewell but Hiroomi took none of it in. His mind was elsewhere, whirring quietly and trying to work out if Mitsuki was in danger, and, if she was, where she was and whether she needed help. The silver glint of that car nagged incessantly in his mind, distracting him and he was annoyed.

Then he realised. He raced up his memory lanes, trying to remember where he had seen that car before. Then suddenly the answer clicked.

Fujima Miroku.

That bastard…! He better not have done anything to Mitsuki…

All this time the blond stood, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels and looked at the park they had stopped in front by chance. He watched as the children swung and ran and played, and noted the quiet ceaseless chatter from their mothers.

He watched the old man on the bench, flipping sluggishly through his newspaper, his aged, rheumy eyes moving along the pages with obvious effort.

He watched the two lovers, sitting on another bench, heads bent and talking quietly; without urgency and with a palpable sense of tenderness, hands intertwined and their faces sweet.

And he was acutely aware of the pandemonium that raged on in the emerald-eyed male beside him.

Akihito knew better than to interrupt Hiroomi. He had learned that much over the years; Hiroomi was a powerful thinker and was prone to these kinds of silences and he could join up seemingly unrelated things and make everything click. It was a formidable skill and the blond shuddered at the thought of possibly having it turned against him. He would not like to have Hiroomi as an enemy.

Finally Hiroomi spoke. Turning back to Akihito and feeling even more agitated than before, he said lowly. "Akkey. Don't take this lightly. I'm filled with unrest." And it was true.

Hiroomi felt with his entirety that it was true. His body, his mind, his heart, his soul; the very fabric that made up his entirety was buzzing with semi-contained fear and terror because his gut instinct was screaming that something terrible was going to happen.

And his gut instinct was rarely wrong.

His mind raced through the facts, examining them, mulling them over and over, unwilling to miss any detail and squeeze every possible solution from them, to try and predict what might happen and prepare himself for it.

"Falling in love?" The soft voice of the blond cut through his thoughts and he emerged from them, a little disorientated. His first instinct was to say yes. Yes. I am falling in love with you. But he looked up to meet those sad, cracked honey-tinted orbs and he hesitated. How could he not? Akihito looked blatantly untrusting. Unbelieving at the notion that falling in love with him was even an option. And Hiroomi felt his heart break a little more. How could he tell him that falling in love with him was such a plausible decision with just mere words?

So he stayed quiet, physically unable to conjure up the means to tell him what he felt, but that wasn't uncommon and the blond left, skipping away to the station, his footsteps echoing quietly. Hiroomi's eyes unfocused and he reached a hand out involuntarily. Realising, he withdrew it, staring vacantly at his hand before he closed his eyes and looked forward. The world seemed to stretch before him; becoming so much bigger and so much scarier when the blond wasn't there with him. When the blond was at war with it. When he had to, somehow, protect the blond from the horrors.

Hiroomi stuck out his chin resolutely and unconsciously. "Guess I should find Mitsuki then…" Removing his hands from his pockets, he flicked his scarf over his shoulder and jumped onto the nearest ledge.

Akihito arrived at the station and sat on one of the benches, waiting for his train. He felt wrong to brush off the concern of Hiroomi so effortlessly but he was getting considerably irritated by it. He knew it was in good faith but it still irked him a little every time Hiroomi, or, indeed, anyone, gave him those pitying looks or an unconscious flick of the eyes as if to make sure he was still there; still unthreatening and still safe.

Gritting his teeth a little he took a deep breath. Be that as it may, he couldn't very well go around accusing and arguing with everyone. So the blond decided to take it up with Hiroomi next time he saw him; there was no use dwelling on it now. Besides, he was far too tired. This whole day had been considerably strange. First, his unexplainable fatigue. They came in bouts, sometimes his mind would be crisp and clear and sharp like the cold on a winter morning and the next second he was so tired and clouded and could barely even make his way up stairs. Ayaka-san told him it was because of the Calm and therefore he couldn't do anything about it but it still frustrated him to no end.

Second, the way Hiroomi looked at him; as though he knew something Akihito didn't and he feared it. But that gaze was unnerving as well, cold and calculative and for a fleeting moment, the blond felt inexplicably fearful. But then it passed.

Third, his own feelings about the…incident on the roof. He had felt…strange. The practised familiarity felt different somehow. Like...like the air was charged and a tension held everything in place. Then as quickly as it had come, the feeling had left and had left him decidedly unsatisfied. It left a sour taste in his mouth. What had brought it on? As much as he didn't want to believe it, he knew the fault lay with him. If he hadn't blushed-

Why had he blushed?

Akihito could feel his head slowly turning into a migraine and he massaged his temples, sighing. He had nowhere near Hiroomi's capacity for thinking and he could physically feel his brain turning into gloop. Chuckling softly at the comparison, his train pulled up.

Hefting his bag higher onto his shoulder, he made his way onto the semi-deserted train, choosing a seat near the door and settled down, intending to mull some more about his blush. At least, that's what he would've done if another wave of fatigue hadn't hit him. And it hit him hard.

"Hnngh…" Akihito struggled to stay awake, prying his eyes open several times.

No…! I can't! I have…to…nngh…

But, inevitably, he felt his eyelids flutter shut and the clutches of sleep take hold of him.

A field of sunflowers, the setting sun tinting them an ethereal red with dashes of purple and blue streaking across the sky.

Alone.

He stood alone.

The wind jostled the sunflowers, their tall stalks bending and swaying in the breeze, creaking like a cello. He looked around. No one and nothing. Nothing but the sunflowers. He looked up. The gentle hues of the blues and purples were steadily disappearing, replaced with a dark shade of red in its stead. The red, so uncannily like blood. His chest seized.

Like blood.

He looked around, panicked. Blood was spreading inwards from the horizon like a disease taking hold of the sunflowers. Like the blood seeping from a vicious wound. Nothing had colour. Only blood. And he stood amidst it all.

"No..! NO!" His scream elicited no change and the blood kept moving in; coming for him. "Get away…! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

His eyes snapped open. He was on the train, the sunflowers gone and the familiar scenery flashing past but he felt a little different. No matter. He let out a relieved sigh. It was over. The dream was over.

Or so he thought.

"W-What…?"

In front of him, two children, no larger than he was, clutched at each other. The older one lifted a shaking finger, pointing directly at him. Their bodies shook, fear evident in their eyes.

"Y-You're…" The little one buried his head in the older one's chest; uttering soft mewls and wept quietly. The older one clutched tighter at the younger, both seeking comfort in one another. Both had their eyes squeezed shut and hands held together as if in prayer. "Don't hurt us! Please!"

"N-No, I…" Akihito heard his voice, shaking and cracking and so, so young. He forced a smile. Some semblance of friendship. "I-I promise. I won't hurt you."

All at once the children were dyed red, their bodies limp and bereft of life. Their arms dropped and they weren't holding each other anymore. Their eyes, empty and their souls, gone.

They were dead.

The older one slowly slid his gaze over to Akihito, frightening him with the slow yet sudden movement and his gaze alone unnerved the blond so much that he trembled and tears sprung to his eyes. Quiet, lonely tears that glided down his cheeks. The child smiled a twisted and fear-inducing smile. A smile of a mad man. He looked directly at Akihito and let out a deranged, crazed laugh that slowly faded away to nothing.

No.

Not nothing.

One word.

A minute whisper among the noises of the train.

"Murderer."

Alone.

He was alone.

And as quick as they had come, the children disappeared. Once more, Akihito opened his eyes, to reality this time, and could barely come to his senses.

"What did I dream about…?" He was still sleepy; still tired and as his vision came into focus, it settled on a familiar silhouette; a rocking black figure against the orange sunset. Or perhaps it was a rocking orange sunset behind a black figure.

Squinting a little, for the sunset was right outside the window, he made out raven-black hair and a distinct womanly figure, but the face was unknown to him. He swayed with the movement of the train and the sun glinted off the strange fish necklace the person was wearing.

"I…zumi…san…?" So sleepy. So, so tired. She smiled. His chest felt warmth spreading across it.

Ahh...so kind.

"Shh…" She hushed him, not unkindly. "Sleep now." Lifting a hand to his head, her ice cold fingers pierced through the haze that filled his mind and for a split second, he saw everything clearly.

Then he was lost to the darkness.

A/N: Shh I know I'm terrible. Sorry, please do bear with me until I actually deviate more from the actual storyline. T A T I'm so sorryyyy. As always, R&R and have a great day you beautiful people! Thank you all so much for reading.