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Breathe

Summary:

Aoba's still drowning. (ViTri Bad End aftermath.)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was dark when he came to.

Blinking into the stark nothingness, he wondered if he had been blindfolded again. But there was no veil of pressure around his eyes. Instead, the pressure was all around him, immovable and uncomfortable.

The realization jolted Aoba. He couldn't see because he was in the box, its walls stiff and claustrophobic while he lay curled on his side like an infant. He had the urge to cry like one too, his soul sick with rising horror. How long were they planning to leave him again? What if they left him in it forever?

The stillness was oppressive and amplified his ragged breaths the way that being somewhere too-quiet does. He whimpered.

Here he noticed that his cheek was wet, but not from tears. Was this… urine...? Aoba shook his head, disgusted at the idea. But no - it was just water. At least an inch of clean water sat with him in the box, so perfectly lukewarm that the border between it and the feel of the air all but disappeared. He thought he should be a little bit thankful, since at least he might not dehydrate, or at least not right away. Or was that really a positive? Maybe it meant he'd be in there for longer. It was an awful thought.

...Then the water began to rise.

He froze, thinking, hoping it was his imagination. It wasn't unknown for paranoia to take over and make him hallucinate scenarios when he was especially out of it. But he wasn't freezing or starving or ill with alcohol so there was no denying how the water slowly but noticeably crept over balled hands.

In a splash of terror, Aoba beat his useless fists against the iron walls. "Help…!"

Silence swallowed up his words. For all he knew maybe they tossed everything, box and all, into a pool. Was half-drowning in the bath not enough for Trip? Was Virus punishing him for something he did?

The water rose up his sides. He struggled to find a hole or current where it could be coming from but he couldn't find any. Aoba twisted hard to lay on his back, elbows grounded, trying to keep his head above water and face pressed to the lid almost like he was kissing it. Lips curled over teeth and he clamped his mouth shut to muffle his distress, on the edge of mindless fear. It was so tight, he wasn't sure if he was getting air, he wanted to get out, Let me out, let me out let me....

When the water's surface tickled up the sides of his neck, he gave into panic.

"Trip! Virus!" He pleaded for them, for anyone, to stop this and to come get him. Ears soon flooded and Aoba clawed at the insides of the box, nearly full of water. Why wouldn't the water stop?! He wanted to get out. He needed air. What little he had left rushed in and out of him as he panted, turning warm and stale.

I'm scared, he thought, breaking into animal-like sobs. I'm scared, I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared…

This would be his coffin. When the water finally reached his mouth, Aoba took one last, choking breath and

 

he screamed a stuttering, loud scream. Suddenly, someone was there dragging him out, their hands curling around his shoulders and shaking him as he thrashed. It didn't matter if it was Trip or Virus, Aoba reached back right then, desperate for his only possible salvation. Gasping, he clawed at shirt and skin before hurling himself into solid arms, petrified at the thought of being turned away and put back in.

"Aoba-- Aoba!"

"Let me out, let me - I'm sorry - please!" he babbled between gulps of air, voice hoarse. He was scared, he was so scared, and he'd do anything to make it stop.

Then another voice rumbled his name, deep and worried. "Aoba, wake up! You're having a dream!"

"R-Ren?" He opened his eyes with a start. It was bright - the light was on. Though his vision was blurry with tears he could make out the dark ball of fur struggling to get into his lap, pressing between him and the red kimono he clung to. "Ko...Koujaku…"

"It was dream. It's all right - it's over now." Koujaku's voice was full of concern. "You're awake."

His mind raced, shaking off sleep faster than he was used to in his twenty-something years. He was home in his bed, sheets tangled, damp with sweat, and heart drumming from a yet another nightmare. It was over. He dug a hand through Ren's fur and hugged him tight, shuddering as the reality of those words settled in like Koujaku's careful arms around him. He released the heavy sob stuck in his chest and cried.

Notes:

I'm always in dire, desperate need of post-Vitri comfort fics. Probably one more part to this story to come.