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It was late. He knew that much. It was very late, in fact, and he was up later than usual. Trip was blissfully asleep in his own room, but Virus, the elder, was not. He couldn't sleep. In fact, he hadn't been able to get to sleep at all for the past three days. It was sort of troubling, especially when you were the leader of a gang that depended on you.
Rubbing his eyes, he stood up, glasses off. He sipped some wine, cracking his neck and sitting down in one of his chairs. He was so tired, but he … couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. Virus had even resorted to drugs tonight, and he hadn't slept a single wink. Trip noticed earlier that day, too; he asked if Virus was okay, and of course, of course, Virus said he was with a smile and a nod, walking off before any further questions could be asked.
Virus, now, in the present, went to adjust his glasses, but he forgot he didn't have them on. He chalked it up to sleep deprivation. Truthfully, his vision, even with his glasses, was beginning to warp and twist and turn, even in darkness.
… Which is exactly why he did not make a big deal out of a man suddenly appearing before him, a man who got closer to him every time he blinked. As the other edged nearer, Virus noticed a few things: One, he was wearing a kimono; two, his eyes seemed to glow in the dark; and three, he was completely black and white.
That, not the sudden appearance of him, was what turned Virus into suspicion. It wasn't that he was just wearing black and white – no, the kimono-clad man with glowing eyes was completely devoid of all color.
“Good evening,” said a velvety voice. Virus had blinked enough, and now the kimono man was sitting next to him, close enough that their elbows were touching. The yakuza shivered; the man was freezing, as if he were dead.
“A little, hyuhu, birdie told me that you've been having troubles sleeping my dear...”
As Virus inspected him further, closer, he noticed tattoos. Tattoos on his neck. Tattoos that were moving. They were still colorless. Virus assumed he had finally fallen asleep with the things he was seeing.
“Ah,” was, honestly, all he could say. The other moved closer, breathing on Virus's neck and resting his head against his shoulder. He kicked his legs.
“I can help you, you know. Fall asleep. I can give you wonderful dreams. Vivid, colorful dreams that people would die,” he paused to laugh quietly, like a fox, “for. Wouldn't that be nice? Don't you agree? Don't you want that?”
Before Virus knew it, he had been pushed from the chair, onto the floor. He didn't remember hitting it. The kimono man was on top of him, breathing against his neck again. His breath was cold, and his grip on his shoulders was too tight.
“Don't you want to dream, Virus-san? Come on.” The kimono man leaned up, face hovering a mere few centimeters from Virus's own. “My name is Ryuuhou, and if you want to sleep, if you want to dream, just give me a kiss.”
Virus hesitated. He thought he was dreaming. Wasn't he? It was confusing. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to dream, and he wanted to sleep. He leaned up –
***
“Hello, Ryuuhou-san,” he greeted properly. Things were so full of color. Virus couldn't even believe it – he hadn't dreamed this vividly in years, if at all.
Ryuuhou had made that one proposition, that one kiss. And with that, he sent Virus into a dream land that most people would be jealous of. Twirling his parasol, he laughed that fox-like laugh. In this land, Ryuuhou gained all his color: A nice blue kimono, with teal tattoos and bright, purple eyes. Virus fell in love instantly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man who had such strange, yet captivating, powers to control dreams.
It felt like had been in this dream forever, and it was such an odd dream. He hadn't seen a single person other than himself – was he not feeling up to dreaming of Trip, or of Aoba-san, or of Mizuki-san, tonight? – and pastels mixed in with neon colors like vomit. Virus sat in a small house, a single room house, that was filled to the brim with an assortment of blue wins, purple wines, green wines. He could hear birds outside the window – song birds, his favorite kind. (Though, when he looked, they were white, all of them were white, with a single neon red spot where the heart should be painted along their feathers.) Large eyeballs floated in the sky, blinking. Occasionally, laughter could be heard, but Virus hadn't yet found the source.
It was only once. He was in this dream only once, but he felt like it was forever.
Ryuuhou twirled his parasol again. “The sun is coming up soon, Virus-san. It's time to say goodbye.”
“Ah? You're leaving?”
“Yes, and you're going to wake up. You already know the price, right?”
Virus paused, blinking behind his glasses. Ryuuhou hadn't mentioned a price before. “Ah … I'm afraid I don't.”
“I need to eat, you know.” Ryuuhou grinned, leaning down –
***
“Vi~irus,” sang Trip. Secretly, the younger yakuza wished the other had a good night's rest. He could tell that he desperately needed one, and even though he knew Virus was going to take medicine, he hoped that he wouldn't become dependent.
He had even made him breakfast – a simple egg over easy on a slightly toasted bagel with just the right amount of butter (and a dash of cinnamon sugar). Knocking on the door again, Trip said, “Virus, come on, open up. It's dawn. We have work to do.”
He tried the handle; it was unlocked. Confused, Trip sat down the plate. Virus always locked the door, and even in a frazzled, sleepless state, Virus should've locked it last night. When he opened the door, Trip was hit with a sudden chill – it was, yes, cold, but something else made him shiver besides the unnatural cold.
He heard laughter – not Virus's – and it reminded him of a fox. Nothing was to be found when he looked around.
However, Trip did find that Virus was sleeping in his bed, in what appeared to be a deep slumber. Trip smiled, happy that he finally fell asleep. The younger sat on the bed, shaking Virus's shoulder.
“Hey, wake up already, you bastard,” he muttered playfully. “I'll tell all the boys you –” He had shaken his comrade enough to roll him over.
Now, Trip had seen his fair share of disgusting, mind-numbing things. But he wasn't prepared for this.
Completely devoid of all color, Virus stared up at him – or, he would have, had his eyes not been eaten out.
Trip heard the laughter again, even over his cries of anguish.