onepassingnight

For anyone wandering into this dream they would find simple countryside, dirt roads passing through rice patties and wooded areas, the surroundings hazy and implied but coming into more distinct clarity the closer they came to a small house. The weather was chilly, the wind bringing a bit of a bite when it came through the trees now and then, taking leaves with it on each gust.

Tomoe was cleaning, a simple broom in hand as she swept in front of the small house. Her expression, as always, was markedly blank, at least for anyone who wasn't used to her. In truth there was a faint note of unease in her frame and the way her brows were subtly drawing now and then as she worked--but the list of those who would pick up on that were few and far between. She had misplaced something. Forgotten something. She was well aware of it, but no matter how hard she thought on it or looked she could not find it. She couldn't even remember what she was looking for, only that 'it' was missing.

It was then that she noticed someone approaching and moved carefully to the path leading up to the house, watching the newcomer owlishly. They certainly didn't look like they had traveled from Otsu.

"Are you looking for the medicine seller...?"

[ooc; I'm going to do something a bit weird with Tomoe. She subconsciously remembers dying, but the greater part of her mind is trying to suppress it... so I'm going to try to bring that out in weird subtle things in the background or with her (i.e. snow falling inside a building or in the middle of 80 degree weather, spots of blood appearing on her clothing only to disappear again when attention is called to it, maybe sudden but brief phantom pains in her right side, who knows /o/) SO if I write something weird in a tag, that's what I'm going for. I don't know how long the memories will stay repressed, probably a few weeks at least. 8D; tl;dr intro note is tl;dr...]

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The word--like so many others Tomoe had spoken, actually--was not in sounds that Aerith understood, yet somehow she got the meaning anyway. Like bouquets, yet ... different, somehow. Different just like the house Tomoe lived in was much different from hers in Midgar.

"I'd love to see that," Aerith said, momentarily distracted from the tea and the fact that Tomoe didn't know they were dreaming. "In fact, how about you show me something you've done, and I'll show you some of my flowers?"

In real life, the distances were insurmountable. But in a dream, the possibilities were only limited by imagination.

"I'm afraid that will need to wait until spring, Aerith-san, I haven't had flowers to arrange for several weeks now," Tomoe answered. "I'm fond of purple irises..."

"Yellow is my favorite for flowers," Aerith said, "but the two colors can make a nice contrast. But we really don't have to wait. We're dreaming, you know." She put that information out there impulsively -- it didn't really matter, right? Tomoe would have realized she'd been dreaming once she woke up, anyway.

Tomoe looked up abruptly at the statement, blinking a couple times. What an absurd statement, she thought. It seemed Aerith meant it quite seriously, but that was silly. "Are you sure you didn't come to see my husband, Aerith-san...?"

But there was a part of her that took the statement quite seriously--and that same part seemed to be the center of her unease. The mere action of thinking on the concept brought that whistling pressure back to her head and the sharp ache along her back.

The house became colder, the atmosphere becoming grayer, almost as though the walls were disappearing. Tomoe gave no sign that she was aware of this shift either, even as snow almost seemed to begin falling on the outermost edges of their vision.

This shift in atmosphere was much stronger, much more noticeable, and Aerith stiffened in her seat, pulling herself more firmly upright. Had that been a wrong thing to say after all? "I'm not," she said, politely but confidently. "I'd never heard of him before talking to you."

Tomoe obviously was convinced of the dream's reality, just as much as Aerith knew it wasn't real. Yet there was the strange shift, gray sky and white snowflakes dancing along her vision ... she shivered, both at the chill and a feeling that something was very badly wrong here.

"Are you trying to get back home?" she asked. There was a note of worry in her voice. The mind could blur reality and fantasy so easily; she thought back to one who had said she was in real danger, despite her happy dreamland. What if this woman's dream was keeping her from facing a threat? If it was already winter, and she wasn't home -- if she was alone, without shelter -- "Miss Tomoe. Where are you really? Please wake up."

That sound--like whistle or a siren--just seemed to get louder and louder in her mind, the pressure almost unbearable. The discomfort finally found her face in the slightest of grimaces, her left hand lifting to press against her eyes in an attempt to force it back.

"I..." she looked up again, brows knitting in clear pain and confusion. "What are you talking about--I am--"

"You should be happy Nee-chan. The time of Tenchuu has finally come for Battousai," it was a boy's voice, disembodied and almost echoing on non-existent wind--but there was no boy.

But Tomoe still reacted--eyes widening momentarily before she hunched forward, hands moving to cover her ears as the sound and pressure became deafening, that pain blossoming like fire over her shoulder. "No--no--I don't want to hear this--I don't want to know this--!!"

And just as suddenly as the scene had shifted to gray it was forced back to the rustic house, the atmosphere and temperature back to where it had started, the only thing out of place being Tomoe's posture.

She breathed shakily, her voice quiet, "I think... you should go now, Aerith-san..."

"Tomoe?" Aerith shot to her feet when the other woman hunched forward, her arms out to steady her if it was needed. And that other voice ... what did it mean? "Tomoe -- "

The cold vanished. The gray relented. But Tomoe stayed like that, and Aerith hovered with concern, shaking her head when she first heard her speak.

"But you ..."

"I'm fine," she answered, straightening, letting one hand fall to her lap, the other moving to cover her eyes as the deafening whistle dulled back down to a hum. "Please."

"No, something's not..."

Her protest died away when the dream abruptly faded to black. By the time she could see anything again, there were only the blankets in front of her face. She sat up in bed and rubbed a hand over her face, frowning.

"A sad place ... I hope she's all right."

Edited 2011-04-11 18:44 (UTC)

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thiiis can't end well.

8D; not sure yet! pfffff

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ignore this edit, just fixing tense