Chapter Text
Distortion:
"Hikaru."
Cicadas buzzed, their never-ending cacophony drumming through his head. Red piercing the grey iris, like a fire piercing the clouds, the beckoning flames pretending to be the sun, to grace you with its imitatory flame.
Hikaru was never the same after the mountain. He came back, but he came back wrong, so undeniably wrong, no matter how much he refused to believe it. Hikaru wasn't the same.
That prey-like instinct that humans had long forgotten resurfacing: the intense urge to flee, the quiet, suffocating fear that consumes you, that causes your bones to lock and your blood to freeze.
A fear so deep, so primal that it's almost impossible to ignore.
He remained, watching expanding red pinpricks in a sea of grey, the gaping maw of Hikaru looming over him. It could kill him without a second thought.
And if it truly wanted to, he would let it.
With that all-consuming hatred that makes you claw at your skin, the choking weight of disgust coiling around your neck as it slithers tighter, whispering the things you know to be true, growing tighter like a noose. Hikaru made him feel something wrong, something the villagers would call disgusting, but he leaned into it, awaiting his fate with not open arms, but something worse, a quiet acceptance, as a tear rolled down his cheek.
But something in him knew that whatever paraded around as Hikaru wouldn't let anything happen to him.
Because. Despite it all. Despite this creature wearing his best friend's body like a coat. To him it was Hikaru, and he would cling to that with every fibre of his being. And he knew Hikaru would do the same.
Penumbra:
Till.
Oh, he’s so happy it's him falling rather than Till. Till, despite all of his faults, his brash personality as he resisted the alien’s. He’s perfect. Yet, he couldn’t understand the tears running down his face. Wasn’t Till happy? He was still alive, he could continue and find Mizi, his actual love, free from him.
His vision swam, the whole world tilting to the side, his hands loosening their grip on Till’s neck, his body falling. Though, all he could see was Till’s eyes. They were watching him, finally. The tears didn’t matter, in fact they made Till all that more beautiful.
Till seemed to be frozen, his gaze stuck. At least those eyes were on him, even in his last moments. His feelings open, Till knew. The taste of iron washed away the taste of Till. And he couldn’t help shed a tear, the final marks of Till on his body erased by the aliens yet again. Till, he hopes he beats the next round or maybe he’ll gain his freedom like he always wished, as long as he survives.
Till froze, blood spilling from Ivan’s lips. The note ending on his lips. Lips that had his own pressed against them just moments before, stained crimson as he stood, Ivan's hands choking him, that intense pressure weakening, falling away. Unable to move as his best friend, fell, all he could do was watch in mute horror, his voice which was never silenced by the torture of the alien’s of the punishments, could make no noise, silence in the screams of the crowd which never seemed to be quietened. Another performance, rounds of applause, the bang of a gunshot. Rinse and repeat.
In that moment, their life seemed nothing more than a fleeting memory, a friendship laid to rest. The only physical reminders were the handprints on his neck and the cut on his lip.
And the single tear that ran down his face finally ended its continuous cascade, its path stopped short ending the torment of a thousand different lives, and perhaps in one world, each of these tragic stories could have their end.
‘Perhaps in another universe we could’ve been happy together.' They smiled, a variety of shades blurring together in a broken harmony.
A soft whisper, the tightening of hands as they gripped the other's jacket, a memory they clung to with every fibre of their being.
‘I wish it was this one.’
The board was wiped clean devoid of any colour of any shade. Blank.