Chapter Text
My heavy eyes jolt me back to reality, book still in hand, I check the time. 3am. Class is at 6am. With a heavy sigh, and the creaking of my bed; I get up, reorganize my stuff and rush to shower as quickly as possible. While I'm in there I fill out a mental checklist: pencil case (check), notebook (check), dictionary (check), stupid calculator (check). As I lay in bed, hair still damp and body still moist. I think about the book, more so, about Susumu. To hold his arms so high, to stretch himself so entirely thin just to jump right away haunts me. Aiko… I wonder how she felt seeing that, or feeling the impact. Maybe, hopefully it was instant. Most likely not. Briefly, I look back at the book cover. Looking at Naoya's name.
How does one write a character like Susumu? Would he have to be just as sick as him? I ponder, to be fair you can write anything of this nature and it wouldn't show much about you. If anything, I hope. Shuffling side to side, my pillow moist and my mouth dry: time is most definitely passing, although it doesn't feel like it. I slowly drift to sleep.
I wake up in a stiff and fixed position. My back is killing me but I get up and go no less, making my way to the shuttle for class. While finding a seat, and seating down. Out of breath, I check the time. 5:35. That feels oddly manageable, and I feel oddly proud. Leaning my head on the window, the somewhat bumpy road making my head bump against the glass. It kind of hurts, but keeps me awake so I don't mind. My stomach cramps from stress and with that I remember the dream I had last night, or this early morning rather. I've never had a dream like it, it was the most vile and confusing dream ever. Dreams like that are something you'd only get if you were crazy, perverted, demonically possessed or cursed. I hug my backpack tightly, feeling up the book from within the bag. Maybe this book is cursed. Trying my best, I try to recall each and every odd detail:
I remember waking up in my bed, per usual, but as I went to check the peephole for some odd reason I can't name. (I never had visitors, and don't have any friends) It was gone, like it was never there before. And it hasn't been simply removed. Finding it odd, I open the door to find not another dorm room but— it's like I'm in a house. I am in a house, I mean. Before I could really look around, I hear this deep groan and then a muted but sudden thud. Maybe if the house wasn't dead quiet, not even a creak from the floorboards was heard, I would've missed it. Curious, and somehow not scared I prowl around similar to a dog trying to snuff out the noise and where it's coming from—
I open the basement door rather violently, I don't know why. But before I could even step a foot on the first stair, this gross, horrible smell meets my nostrils. Quickly, I plug my nose with my fingers and make my way down slowly and creepily. The stairs feel endless, and my knees buckle in pain. I remember pausing two or three times and for quite awhile. Getting closer, the groaning sounds more muffled, the thuds way louder. "Didn't I ask you to stop making noise or I'll beat you?" Deep hiss meets deep groan. My heart stopped, I turn around almost in a jumping-like fashion to see nothing, or no one, near me.
Naoya looks up at me still on the steps, furrowing his brow and trying to talk to me through the tape. I walk down the remainder of the steps, and free him of his mouth-tape; snatching it off eagerly. His glee only showing in his eyes. Still looking up at me, and now at least verbally free, he tells me "you're crazy. Jumping at your own voice, do you jump at your own shadow too?" I ignore him and double-check behind me, in disbelief that I would say something like that. "You're so ugly, and crazy." He says it so matter-of-fact, and I for some reason just stare at him, swaying back and forth. He looks oddly happy saying that though. It irked me to the point beyond recognition, I just remember feeling my face spiraling or pulling into itself and with all of my upper and lower(?) body strength: I slap him.
This causes me to fall on him after the facial impact in which, through bondage, he kicks me off of him with exceeding force and in the chest. Specifically, just one boob. My nipple feels very hot and tender as I lie on the floor, on my back, silent, rubbing the pain out. With his foot, he pushes me further away from him. At this point, I was seeing stars. "You're lucky I didn't kill you. Seriously, do not touch me again—" He spits on me, while maintaining a calm, disgusted demeanor. It's warm, and solidly gooey. I ogle him up and down, taking in his tied up body; not bothering to wipe off his oral matter from my face. "How am I supposed to feed you if I can't touch you? I love you, and I'm sorry you're so upset right now then." And whether it was my statement or my glaring, it made him deeply cringe. "I've never seen you look so ugly, what a face, I don't even want to feed you anymore," I chuckled to myself. "Happy to hear that," Naoya replies. Same expression.
"And you'll die here, alone," a smile leaves me as tears swell in my eyes. I couldn't bother to laugh anymore, I couldn't even see Naoya through my foggy vision. But I could make-out he was looking at something to his side, completely fixated. "No. No, I won't," his smile meets mine. I lift my head up to see what he was staring at, it was just his toilet bucket. "I won't survive for long, not long at all, but I would rather eat my own shit than be touched by you again. Don't you agree?" Still focused on the bucket, he sounds at peace saying this which breaks my heart. "Agree with what? That you won't live long?" I remember just saying that made me sad. He tilts his head back, his chest going up and down like he was about to orgasm, "that you'd eat my shit too!—" Now giggling. I've never seen him giggle before but I hated it, and loved it at the same time. It was just different, I would need to get used to it…
Casually, I slowly turn my attention back to the bucket and stare at it. He stares at me staring at it. "Would you do anything for me instead of to me?" His eyes, expression, everything just seemed so triumphant but frustrated. "Yes.." I annoyingly scratch at my stomach. Brown, beautiful eyes dart between me and the bucket in a frantic manner. He clears his throat, "well?" "I don't know what you're trying to say and you know I don't know…" "I think you should use your brain and do what you need to do, what you deserve, in order for me to forgive you." I've angered him again, I felt this burning sadness? Was I going to melt into the floor and turn into a pathetic sludgy blob? He stares at me walking toward the bucket, the closer I get the more plugging my nose doesn't seem to help. Sitting on my calves, leaning over it, I turn back to Naoya and he's frantically crying or sobbing but smiling. It creeped me out, making me make a weird face and then I woke up like I've been kicked. That's it.
I hope I never get a dream like that again. My stomach hurts just thinking about, how do you know when you're dreaming or not? A buzz brings me back to reality, it's just a weather notification— I clutch at my heart and throw my phone back in my bag, it's 6:10. "Hello! Excuse me!" Alerting the bus driver, "I think you forgot to drop me off?" I look at him like he's dumb, he does the same and waves me off, "we passed the drop-off spot.. twice! You didn't say anything then, you'll be alright." With this I sit back down. Fuming. I see him look back at me, most likely gauging my reaction, "we'll be there in a few, 10 minutes." Ending his attempt at reassurance with an agitated huff. I guess we're both pouting now. It feels like this is taking forever, but I come to finally see my building from the distance. The bus stops at the drop-off, the doors open "than-" I stop myself from finishing as he looks all upset and now I'm upset for upsetting him. I walk off and jog toward my building in silence.
The building is warm, and barely anyone is in the hallways; that's great because I'm out of breath and panting like I've ran a whole marathon. As I walk up the stairs, I see my classroom. I see him in there. If he were to just slightly turn to the left, he'd see me dead on. Each step I take toward the classroom makes me sick, I arrive at the doorway but not fully in the classroom and wait a bit. After a few minutes, three. I counted them. I walk in and take a seat. Dr. Zenin only briefly looks at me, and continues his lecture and from what it looks like; takes my attendance as well. It feels kind of weird seeing him after the dream, this has got to be what it feels like to be a pedophile. Gross, and disgusting. Undercover whilst completely perverted, if I wasn't actively in class right now I'd gag at the thought. Everyone else is taking notes, I don't know about what though. Let's just assume it's about this week's writing assignment, I remember that being on the syllabus nearing this time…
URGH— I accidentally look behind me and Remi looks back at me. I wave at her, she waves back. That was so awkward; I forgot she'd be there. Was always there. I try to, discretely, check everyone's notes (BUT hers) and still can't make anything out. His words are so technical you'd think he was doing it on purpose, I wish I could raise my hand… Nearing the end of the lecture, he looks through his desk drawers and pulls out a bunch of papers. Glaring at them intensely, I recoil in fear remembering it's the midterms (or at least I think it is); he hands them out row by row. I can see the red ink he uses for grading, it's probably blood— blood he drains from students with a GPA under 3.98 and business majors. Some students remain empty handed, but still look content. Hopeful. He walks up to me with this pitiful, merciful look on his face and unlike everyone else's hands me mine facing toward the desk: hiding my grade. I can hear him handing Remi hers, she squeals all happy and tucks it into her bulging folder.
His presence is so menacing, his back is wide and his posture is incredible. He sits at his desk as everyone starts to pack and leave, why is everyone so smiley? I can feel, smell and hear the brilliance of this room. Remi remains behind me though, I can't hear her doing anything and I'm too afraid to check. Maybe she's on her phone? More, way more, than a few minutes pass; I couldn't count how many but everyone but me, her and Dr. Zenin are gone. I scratch at the side of my neck, Dr. Zenin is grading I think, he's paid less attention to me since last class; was it because of the dream or the book whether? I flip over my midterm like it was on fire. "SEE ME AFTER CLASS." Remi jolts up from her seat and leaves, she waves to Dr. Zenin. It's just me and him now, I look out the window; its clear, sunny. Looking back at my midterm, literally every question, I flip through the last few pages… has a question mark beside it in red ink.
"It's been after class for awhile…" He says, head still down and still grading. I grab all my stuff and sit at somewhere I'd never even dare to sit, front of the class. "Give me it back." So I do. He stops grading, finishing up on one exam rather impatiently, "do me a favor, explain to me how you got this answer." He points to question 13. I try to fix my focus on the question but can't help but to mainly stare at him. "No need to look at me. Look at the question." He leans his chair slightly back, him going with it, staring at me bewildered. "I don't know," I rub my head in frustration. I know I'm about to cry. Blinking at me again bewildered, he asks, "you don't know…? What the question or your own… explanation?" "I don't know… s-shit boowth," I place my face into my hand and try to calm my meltdown. "I-IIm sorryy—" both tears, sweat and snot cloud my ability to talk properly; I continuously try to wipe or suck back up all of it. He watches me with a curious, but equally emotionless expression like he's waiting for a surprise he isn't surprised about.
As I attempt to stand and leave, stand and run out of the room actually; I feel this wet warmth from under me. "You can use my bathroom," he points to the other bathroom, the smaller one on the opposite side of him. "It's unlocked." His expression surprises me as I get up to go, he looks worried yet disgusted. Both emotions have fought hard for equal value. He stares directly at my seat. I make it to the bathroom.