Chapter Text
Aichi’s beside him, his head on Naoki’s shoulder as they sit inside the auditorium. Naoki remembers it clearly - this is a memory, one he’s only barely reclaimed, the day of the culture festival. Aichi had been so worried over the whole thing, he had fallen asleep still in his costume, Marron’s glasses askew. Naoki had been frozen in place, so they had stayed like that until Misaki had found them and practically dragged Aichi home.
The memory is shifting, though, because Aichi’s awake, staring off into the distance. His outfit shimmers, not quite the Marron costume, not quite his school uniform, not quite a dark outfit Naoki doesn’t recognize.
“Naoki-kun?” His voice is what Naoki remembers, soft, comfortable. It makes a warm feeling swell up in him, even as Naoki coughs and turns his head away in case the heat in his cheeks gives him away.
“Y-yeah?” Or, of course, it could be him tripping over his own damn words. “We, uh, don’t have to go anywhere. You can go back to sleep.” He feels so incredibly see-through. Aichi could probably read him like a book. Naoki attempts another fake cough, doing his best to seem relaxed and failing miserably.
Aichi laughs, actually, at his suggestion - but it’s not a laugh Naoki likes. No, it’s too quiet, too...sad. There’s still something like sleep clinging to his voice, but more than that, Aichi sounds exhausted, and Naoki doesn’t think that he’s ever heard Aichi sound this way.
(He wants to pull Aichi closer for a moment, let him sleep some more, but he’s just as frozen as he remembers being.)
“I will,” Aichi murmurs, in a soft, far away sort of voice. “I will, I just...wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah? What is it?” Naoki’s a little all over the place, cheeks probably still flushed for no real reason, but he swallows and tries to focus. If Aichi needs something, he’ll hear him out.
“...do you think I’m a good person?”
The world of the memory seems to freeze, if only for a moment. The auditorium stage is hazier the more Naoki tries to focus, the chairs beside them blurring into a singular, unrecognizable shape.
“What - what kind of question is that?” And then, of course, is Naoki’s unending ability to not think before he says anything. At least it’s the truth - Aichi’s never asked something like this, and it seems obvious what the answer is.
This is the part where he actually should think before he answers. Aichi’s...someone that Naoki’s looked up to, after all. He’s not the tiny kid that Naoki remembers staring at his feet all day, never speaking up enough for Naoki to even hear his voice. No, he’s someone who’s eyes shine brightly when he’s playing Vanguard, someone who roots Naoki to the spot, starstuck, as he plays.
Naoki rubs the back of his head. “Course you are. You’re like...the bravest guy I know, ya know? Simple as that.”
Aichi hums, though he doesn’t sound satisfied with the answer, and Naoki frowns. Sure, he can’t put it into words too elegantly, but it’s the truth. What else would he say?
“That’s...nice of you, Naoki-kun. You’re always so nice to me.” There’s something wrong with Aichi. It’s a ridiculous thought, but it won’t leave Naoki’s head as he listens - Aichi doesn’t sound like this, this...empty. Distant, small, like Naoki could reach out as far as he can and still never hold him, even though they’re right next to each other.
“Aichi...?” He should say something more than just Aichi’s name. He can’t think of anything.
“...you’re always so nice to me,” Aichi echoes. “But...you don’t really know much about me, do you, Naoki-kun...?”
Naoki is frozen. Aichi’s head is still on his shoulder, but it’s like a chasm has opened up between them. There’s something he should reply with, a flippant mention of how that doesn’t make much sense, how they’re still friends anyway - but his mouth won’t move. Naoki doesn’t feel in control of his own memory.
“You know, I was happy.” Aichi continues regardless, maybe realizing that Naoki can’t respond, maybe not even listening to anything he would say, still in that strange far-off voice. He won’t look at Naoki, and at any other time Naoki would find it comforting or something, but like this - he wants to see Aichi’s eyes. “I was happy,” he repeats, “that you didn’t know anything. I didn’t want to run away from everything I’ve gone through, but it was nice. To have someone who...didn’t expect anything from me.”
Was happy. There’s something like dread in Naoki’s stomach, and he’s torn between wanting to pull Aichi closer and wanting to not move at all. He doesn’t get a choice in the situation, however.
“With - with Link Joker,” and Aichi takes a breath that almost seems painful. “You fought so hard, when I didn’t do anything. When I was scared. And I...I realized that running away is just going to hurt everyone more. So...I’m not running anymore, Naoki-kun.”
“Wait-” and Naoki is barely cognizant of the words coming out of his mouth, but it feels like Aichi’s going somewhere far away. This isn’t a memory, it’s a nightmare, and Naoki pushes through whatever feeling won’t let him move, forcing his hand through the fog.
Aichi’s standing up, looking off into the distance -
Naoki grabs his wrist.
“What the hell does that mean?!” It comes out harsher than Naoki means, but the words are jumbled up in his head and he can’t figure out what’s going on . “Aichi, what -”
Aichi turns around, and Naoki’s words die in his throat.
Naoki’s not one to have a picture-perfect memory, not like the boss lady does. No, each memory of Aichi he’s clawed back is one that he’s struggled to remember in perfect clarity, piecing each image together until it’s something familiar. So, in a way, he guesses he should be grateful that the face staring back at him isn’t static.
Still -
Aichi’s smiling, but it’s not what Naoki would ever call something he wants to see. His eyes are soft, but hollow , and it’s not right, it’s not right at all. Each version of him flickers, that dark version, that school uniform, the Marron costume, melding together into an unrecognizable blur, a fog Naoki can’t see through.
“Naoki-kun.” Aichi smiles, but it’s fake enough that it hurts to look at. Aichi may as well turn that smile into a sharp edge and stab him. “I’m sorry.”
The memory falls apart.
There’s - it’s hard to look at, but there’s something red creeping up the left side of Aichi’s face, something like roots in a way. Reverse is the word that comes to mind, but it’s not a memory that makes sense, and either way, it doesn’t feel right. This is something else, not something he can’t remember but something he’s never seen.
The world is dark around them, the familiar sights of the auditorium long gone, replaced with something Naoki can really only describe as darkness. It’s not comforting, even though he’s never minded the dark, and it feels as if it’s pressing in on them.
Aichi holds Naoki’s hands in his own, and it should be a warm feeling, almost overbearingly so, but Naoki practically feels freezing. He wants to pull his hands away, struggle against the darkness that’s prodding at them, a lonely and horrible expanse of space and nothingness.
He doesn’t move. Aichi doesn’t even make eye contact with him, staring at their hands.
“What happened to you?” The words fall from him limply, not gentle but not harsh, just...confused. Aichi should be the one who’s lost, but Naoki feels as if he’s completely out of his depth, another dream where he’s choking on darkness, never getting any closer to what he wants. To who he wants to save.
Aichi’s hands fall to his sides. The haze around his figure solidifies, vaguely, into something like a military jacket, black and gray and red. It doesn’t fit him.
The eyes that stare back at him, apologetic, don’t fit Aichi either. They seem so far away.
“I’m sorry,” Aichi repeats. “I’m sorry.” He’s not smiling anymore.
“What are you sorry for?” God, he’s still frozen, right down to his core. Naoki can’t move when it matters, can’t comfort Aichi, can’t bring him back from wherever he’s trapped. All he can do is throw out useless, weak words, pushing and pushing until he doesn’t have the strength anymore.
Naoki’s hands make their way to Aichi’s shoulders, though. He can move that much. He can tighten his grip, enough that Aichi’s eyes widen.
“What are you sorry for?!” he repeats, louder. “You didn’t do anything! We’re going to save you, alright, no matter who wants us to forget about you. Don’t talk like you’re going away!”
Aichi just stares, an emotion Naoki can’t place flickering across his face before fading back into that horrible, sad look. His head falls forward, staring at nothing again, and all Naoki can do is watch.
“You really always are….nice to me.” His eyes are hidden by his hair and shadow, even in this world of darkness. Naoki doesn’t try to look any further.
“Course I am.” It’s the same words as before, but Naoki means them each and every time. “I look up to you, Aichi. You’re the guy who showed me something to be passionate about. You’re the guy who made me strong. I’m never gonna forget about you.”
“Stop. ”
There’s a murmur Naoki can’t make out.
“And, and I mean that, ya know? You said you were scared, but I’ve never seen anyone do things like you did! Not with all the, like, world-destroying stuff, but with the club too! So…”
“Stop it.”
“So,” and despite everything going on, despite the wrongness of the dream, Naoki’s cheeks still heat up as he spits out the words. “I’m glad we’re friends, man-”
“ Naoki-kun, STOP!”
Naoki’s arms are pushed aside, and he stumbles back.
Aichi’s still there, in the darkness, not looking up. Not looking at anything.
“I can’t...I can’t let you say things like that, Naoki-kun…” The words are from his mouth, but they’re un-Aichi enough that it hurts. Sharper, colder, just like the rest of him, no matter what that smile tries to forgive. “I’m sorry…”
“Why do you keep apologizing…?” The question feels sour the moment Naoki says it. That dread settling in him opens up wider, a yawning gap. His hands feel cold from where they were pushed away.
Aichi finally meets Naoki’s eyes. For a moment, Naoki holds more memories that were lost to the wind that day. Memories of Aichi laughing with him and the rest of the Cardfight club, never pushing too hard, blushing when asked something too directly. They’re mixed with the Aichi he remembers cardfighting, a serious drive in his eyes, strength like Naoki had only really dreamed of.
The Aichi looking back at him doesn’t have either of those.
“Because...you thought I was a good person, Naoki-kun.”
It’s a pitying look. That’s what Naoki places, as the smallest, sad smile crosses Aichi’s face.
“I took...so much from you.”
And it all slides into place.
Every word Naoki hasn’t understood, every feeling that hasn’t fit quite right - it’s all together, a mosaic he wants to turn his head away from. Because that can’t be the truth. It has to be jumbled up in his head, something he’s not fully thought through, something still tinged in that haze of being in a dream.
Aichi can’t be gone because he wants to be.
Whatever he’s feeling, this mix of horror and disbelief, must be written across his face clearer than anything else. Aichi places a hand on his other arm, holding himself, even as he smiles and shakes his head. Naoki can’t stand the damn smile anymore.
“You’re kidding,” Naoki says. His voice sounds hollow, just like Aichi’s, two voices echoing off of each other until the only noise is unbearable to listen to.
“I’m -” and Aichi pauses, like he’s thinking better of apologizing again, which is probably good. Naoki didn’t realize until right now, but his heart is pounding in his ears - is he angry? He can’t tell, not the way he’s standing here right now.
“It’s...for your happiness,” is what Aichi says instead.
Naoki wants to laugh.
“You’re kidding ,” he repeats, disbelief slipping through each syllable. “You - you left. You took our damn memories - fuck, Aichi, how are we supposed to be okay with that?! How am I -” the words cut off, Naoki’s voice choking. He can’t finish a word. This isn’t what he ever wants to say to Aichi.
Aichi is supposed to want to be saved.
“We’re friends, man.” Naoki’s hands have made their way to his knees, somehow, his head hanging down. He can’t look at Aichi, and that hurts just as much as Aichi’s expression would, and he doesn’t know what to do. There’s the feeling of tears stinging at the corner of his eyes, and Naoki grits his teeth and tries to will them away. “I don’t get it at all.”
There’s a feeling of someone else against him, pulling him up and into a hug - the tears he’s failed to chase away blurring the sight, but there’s only one other person in this nightmare of a dream. Naoki wants to push Aichi away, but even to the end, even alone, he’s frozen.
“I know.” Aichi’s voice is barely a whisper. Naoki can’t look up, because he knows that he’ll see that stupid, self-sacrificing smile there once more. “I didn’t know-”
“Didn’t know what?! That we don’t want you gone? ” He doesn’t care what he sounds like now, too harsh or too rough. It just matters that the words reach.
“I didn’t know that it would take so much,” Aichi says. “I’ll...do better this time. I’ll make sure you can still play with everyone. I won’t…”
The rest of the sentence dissolves into static. This time, Naoki really does push Aichi off of him.
“ This time? ” He can’t believe his own voice, his own ears. White noise in darkness, static that’s black and white and gray, just like the colors coating Aichi.
There’s surprise on Aichi’s face for a second, before it melts into that placating, pitying look. Naoki wants it gone. Naoki wants the real Aichi back, the one in each memory he’s carefully placed, not the one who ripped them away.
“Naoki-kun.” Aichi’s voice wavers for a second, and for a second it’s like he’s real. But it’s gone in a swallow and a forced shake of the head, and that mask returns. “I...I really did mean it, when I said I was happy. I really do...miss you. And everyone. You’re all...really important to me.”
“Then - why -” Naoki can’t even finish the question.
“I can’t keep running. This is...my responsibility. So that I don’t drag you into anything else, Naoki-kun. That’s why...I can’t come back.” Farther, farther away. Each word Aichi says takes him out of Naoki’s grip, and now Naoki doesn’t know if he wants to push Aichi away or hold on with all his strength - he doesn’t know - “But...you deserve better than that. I don’t want you all...burdened with that. I want you to be happy, so…”
Naoki’s hand is outstretched, but it holds nothing.
“Please,” and Naoki could actually call that a real smile from Aichi. It’s the worst one yet. “Please let me be selfish a little more.”
Naoki steps forward into nothing.
“If you do that, I really won’t forgive you.” He can barely breathe.
“I know.” Aichi tilts his head, and closes his eyes in that look Naoki’s seen so many times before. “At least...you won’t remember that either way.”
Naoki wishes Aichi was still there, hugging him, doing something. He wishes it was still that fragment, that mockery of a memory. He runs, his shoes resounding against nothing but darkness, and reaches out, but he already knows he won’t reach. He’s never going to reach, not if this is what Aichi wants.
It’s like he’s running into the night, reaching out at the stars, for all the distance between them.
“AICHI!”
His heart’s pounding in his ears, the sound of his own frantic, shallow breathing all he can hear, but Naoki can still read Aichi’s lips when they move one more time.
“ I’m sorry. ”
And like his own heart’s betrayed him, Naoki believes that Aichi means it.
Naoki wakes up with his hand reaching to the ceiling.
“Eh…?” His eyes are wet. It’s not like him to cry in dreams...if anything, if he gets worked up, it’s more likely for him to end up hitting himself on the bedframe or something.
It must have been something bad, then. His throat is hoarse, like he was shouting.
4:15 AM , his clock helpfully says. Naoki groans, rubbing his eyes and rolling over.
Nightmare or not, it doesn’t matter if he can’t remember it.