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68. When It All Falls Down

Rule 31: Trust is careless.

She woke to the sounds of screams. Howling. She didn't get the chance to realise it was in her head— in her memory, her nightmare— before the telltale burn of bile had her stumbling for the bathroom. She wasn't sick, in the end, though she felt pretty close to it several times.

She leaned her back against the cold surface of the bath and slumped over her knees.

"Hey."

She flinched, snapping her head up to the silhouette in the threshold. But then the voice registered. It was just Oboro. "Hi," she returned, voice rusty with sleep.

"Bad dream?"

She'd had a few in the hospital too, not like the one tonight, but still not great. Oboro had... noticed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, I um-" He let out a breathy laugh, a wobbly smile on his face as he glanced to one side. "I actually haven't slept since I- Since waking up on the wrong battlefield."

"Oh." That was not normal. Very little about this was normal, but she would've thought the basics would've been. "Did the doctors know?"

"Yeah, yeah, they have no idea what's up though." Which meant that she was almost certainly the cause of his insomnia. "You ok?"

"Just waiting for the nausea to fade, I have a habit of..." She gestured to the toilet like that would finish her sentence for her.

"Needing the toilet?"

She wished. "Barfing," she finally managed to finish using actual words. "When it's quirk-related, that's- The dreams, that's what happens so, toilet."

He nodded, eyebrows high on his forehead. "Right. That sucks."

Understatement of the century.

"So, are you going back to sleep?"

Screaming. Begging. A wailing sea of 'Let me out!' and 'I don't want to be here!' and 'I want home! I want mum! I want dad!'. "No," she said, swallowing down the bile starting to claw up her throat again. "No."

"Want to listen to more music?" he offered.

"That sounds nice." The music they'd listened to earlier had been fun and lovely, though she might have to ask for some more upbeat songs. She didn't need anything slow that would put her to sleep. "But I don't think I should leave here yet."

"Then I guess I'll have to bring the music to you."

She blinked as he disappeared, leaning forward like it would help her see further around a corner metres in front of her. When nothing happened in her limited view for a few seconds, she relaxed back again, only frowning when Oboro crossed the corridor into the kitchen. Half a minute later, the two of them were sat against the bath, earphones in one ear each and Otsuka was slowly making it through a glass of water. There was a plate in front of her with some random bits and bobs from the fridge but she didn't trust her stomach to keep it down yet— as it was, she was very carefully sipping her water.

"Thanks," she told him.

"Honestly, I should be thanking you. Being alone was killing me." He frowned then and Otsuka very suddenly got the feeling that she needed to provide an immediate distraction.

She summoned a little mist into her palm, letting it float just a little ahead of them, watchful of the close quarters and how easily she might accidentally dust something. Without a flame, it wasn't as bright as her usual nightlights, but in the dim bathroom, it was more than enough. "Wow," slipped out of his open mouth, a smile wiping away his frown. She snatched his hand out of the air before he could touch it.