Chapter Text
The page Techno hands to him is blank.
No- It’s not blank, but it might as well be.
Ranboo tries to decipher it, really, he does, but does the Syndicate really expect him to read this?
“Uh.. what exactly is this?” He asks, letting a state of uncertainty wash over his face in waves, confusion sinking into his features.
“Read it.” Techno tells him simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The waves pick up and begin to crash, grasping desperately at loose particles of sand as if tiny fragments of comprehension.
So Ranboo squints and tries again, and the waves only grow stronger.
It’s just a bunch of scribbles. Washed out, frantic scribbles that covered every corner of the page until it was almost a pitch inky black. A large majority of them are indecipherable. In the bottom left corner he can just barely make out a scribble in the shape of a mushroom. In the center of the page in big, bold letters engraved deep into the paper’s fabric is the word “Kinoko.” Right, the topic of today’s meeting was surrounding the formation of a new government, courtesy of Niki bringing it to their attention.
But other than that, the page is utterly ruined- words written seemingly at random over and over again until their original meaning is buried in layers of ink. Maybe the person who’d written them had been panicked. Maybe they’d been trying to hide something.
It reminds him of something. A memory pulls at the back of his mind, tugging and beckoning him to relive it.
He trips, and the waves pull him under.
His hands tremble, flipping through page after page of what had once been ramblings for his eyes only. Now, the entire world looks upon them in horror.
“Traitor,” they called him- plotting with the enemy, never to be trusted- a friend of lies. But no- no he hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t. He had to have written down something that would prove his innocence. He had to!
He grows more frantic with every missing page his eyes scan over, any fleeting hope in the remaining ones being washed away when each word makes him look more and more guilty.
Finally, he comes across a page different to the others, and his heart sinks.
The once nearly white page was now black, every inch of it covered in ink that caught in the light and drowned out all hope of redemption in the eyes of his friends. No. It can’t be. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember what he wrote or why his words had to be ruined so thoroughly but it had to have been something that would’ve taken that dirty word of ‘traitor’ right from their mouths.
How? How hadn’t he noticed anything off with the book until now? Why hadn’t he looked in it sooner? Why had he been so careless?
He snaps the book shut, landing back on the very first page- one of two that had been edited in some way rather than just crumpled up and thrown to the wind.
It's all white, except for the small scribble in the shape of a smile in the top left in familiar black ink.
He looks up, glancing around rapidly at all the distraught faces until he lands on what he’s looking for. Porcelain white and unwavering, Dream’s mask stares right back.
It hits him in a wave of shock. Dream- ally or enemy he's not really sure, had brought this upon him. The paper crumples underneath the tsunami of emotions that threaten to boil over, and he screams.
“Ranboo?”
And then someone reaches for him, pulling him above the deep suffocating haze and drags him to shore.
He blinks. Once. Twice. And he’s back in the meeting room.
“Ranboo? Ranboo are you okay?” It was Niki who spoke, reassuring and grounding with a hand over his. He lets his tight grip on the parchment dissipate as he comes to. “Can you hear us?”
He snaps out of it. “Huh? Oh- yeah, sorry. I just spaced out there.” Ranboo manages to speak. His throat feels like cotton, and he hopes that’s enough of an explanation. “Happens- sometimes.” It doesn’t, but they don't have to know that.
“You sure?” Phil presses. Ranboo nods. It was nothing.
Ranboo’s eyes wander down to the black piece of paper and- huh? It’s white now. It’s white and the writing is neat and organized and readable- albeit slightly crumpled. Whoops.
He holds the paper up to catch the central light hanging above the table. There’s no sign of any panicked scribbles or spilled ink or anything. He scans over it. Kinoko is mentioned several times. What?
“You sure you’re okay?” Techno speaks. “You don’t have to stay here. nobody's forcing you.”
“No- no, i’m fine, really.” He quickly cuts in. “Uh.. just remind me what we’re talking about again?”
“Right." Techno takes the hint and redirects to the original topic, pointing towards a map of the server plastered onto the wall. Was that always there? "The general gist of what you need to know is that someone is trying to set up another 'nation' or 'government' as they call it, because we all know that ended so well the last time." He grumbles, putting air quotes around some of the words as he speaks, and Phil laughs. "And we’re deciding what to do about it. This here,” Techno gestures toward the paper, a stark white. “Is where we’re writing down ideas.”
“Oh- right, makes sense.”
And the meeting continues on.