We don't talk about Jouno

Dreams to nightmares

For the first time in a very long time, when Gogol's dream took inspiration from his memories, it wasn't entirely a nightmare. Gogol had been sitting upside down on a chair, trying to read a book in peace, when Chuuya came downstairs. He was much smaller than Gogol, but the traditional dress he was wearing had definitely belonged to Gogol at one point. He had flowers in his hair, the kind Fedya liked to grow, and Gogol's gut was torn between sympathy and jealousy.

Chuuya was taking Feda's attention, but it wasn't like he could help it. Chuuya was the beloved of Dazai, and Fedya had him now. It was like Fedya had found a shiny new toy, just like he did when Sigma first turned up, and he was basically ignoring Gogol again.

The whole business didn't sit well with Gogol, though. Chuuya was half vampire at this point, and while Fedya had used his powers to make Chuuya keep most of his personality, he'd obviously changed some things around in his mind. Gogol had seen him do that before. It wasn't free will, and he didn't like it. Gogol and Chuuya didn't meet very often, but Gogol was always a bit uncomfortable around him.

"You're Nikolai, right?" Chuuya asked. He sat down on the floor next to Gogol's chair, and pulled out a book. "I'm trying to learn to read some of Fedya's books. I'm not very good with the language, but I think I'm getting there." Gogol nodded, and got down off the chair to sit next to Chuuya. "Do you like what you've read so far?" He asked. Chuuya blushed in embarrassment. "Just between the two of us, not really. It's all very sad, don't you think? I want to read it because Fedya likes it, though."

Gogol bit his lip. "Do you usually do things you don't like because Dostoevsky wants you to?" Back when Sigma had lived with them, he'd hated it when Gogol was out on missions, especially at night. Gogol got the impression Sigma felt safer when Gogol was around. That meant Sigma didn't feel safe when he was alone with Dostoevsky. Gogol didn't like where that train of thought might end up.

Chuuya twirled a strand of his red hair around his finger. "Not really." He said. "Even if something Fedya wants me to do isn't usually my cup of tea, I feel happy if I'm doing it for him. He's so kind to me, you know. I really should be grateful for all he's done for me. Saving me from Dazai, and all that." Gogol's stomach turned. He only partially knew how Dostoevsky's power worked, even after all those years of being his. Gogol knew it affected people's minds, though. Gogol knew of Chuuy a bit by reputation before. That didn't sound like the kind of thing he'd say, especially not the part about Dazai. It was Gogol's impression that those two loved each other. If Chuuya actually meant what he was saying...

"I'm sorry." Gogol said. Chuuya raised an eyebrow. "Whatever for?" He asked. "You haven't been anything but nice to me. At first I was worried you'd be kind of jealous, but Fedya assured me we'd be the best of friends. Like usual, he was right." Gogol didn't like this. He didn't usually feel so...he wasn't sure what the word was here...guilty, maybe? He brought Chuuya here. He didn't know what Dostoevsky was going to do to him, but he still felt like he had a part in this wrongness that had happened to the person sitting in front of him.

"Do you really think we're good friends?" Gogok asked. He barely knew Chuuya. Chuuya nodded. "I think so. Do you?" Gogol tried to think of something he could say to Chuuya that wouldn't get him in trouble with Fedya. A mischievous grin crossed Chuuya's face. "I have an idea." He said. "You want to be free like a bird, right?"

Chuuya reached out and grabbed Gogol's hand. Just as Gogol started to wonder what was about to happen, he started to feel himself lifting off the floor. Gogol watched in amazement as the bookshelves flew by. He knew Chuuya's power was gravity manipulation, but he didn't know it could be used for something like this. Gogol let out a joyful laugh as he and Chuuya floated higher in the room.

Gogol wasn't sure how long they stayed up there. He didn't measure time. He just took in how beautiful everything looked from you here, and how this time, when Chuuya smiled, it reached his eyes as well. After a wonderful forever, Chuuya gently lowered them to the ground. Gogol was at a loss for words. When they landed, Chuuya's head rested on Gogol's shoulder. He looked up at Gogol, trying to discern his reaction.

"That was the best moment of my life!" Gogol said enthusiastically, and took Chuuya's hands in his. "Thank you." Chuuya smiled, his cheeks growing slightly pink. "That was the greatest gift anyone could ever have given me." Gogol wasn't sure what possessed him to do what he did next. Just a spur of the moment sort of thing. Gogol leaned down and kissed Chuuya on the lips.

Chuuya didn't say anything, just let it happen, but put a hand on Gogol's shoulder that he took to as a gesture of Chuuya's approval. Gogol knew this was wrong. Chuuya had a somewhat boyfriend back home, and it was Gogol's fault he was in this mess in the first place. Still, though. Gogol couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever made him so happy. Didn't Gogol deserve to feel like that too?

"Well, now, Nikolai." Gogol quickly pulled away at the sound of Dostoevsky's voice. When he looked up, Dostoevsky was standing in the doorway, a disapproving scowl on his face. Chuuya's face went almost blank, as if he'd forgotten what had just happened. "I have to say, I'm disappointed, but not surprised."

Gogol quickly straightened up. "Fedya, I..." Dostoevsky glared. "Don't try to explain yourself. It's obvious what was going on. Let me guess. He decided to use his power to make you fly around the study." He really was good at this. There were some days Gogol thought he'd be better off without Dostoevsky. He always returned, of course, but it was moments like this that really made him wonder.

"I'll let you off with a warning this time." Chuuya stood up, and made his way towards Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky smiled, and looped his arm around Chuuya's waist. "This one is mine. If I hear you tried anything like this again, I'll be most displeased. Do I make myself clear?" Crystal. "It's not fair." Gogol said, in an unusual act of defiance. "It's like you've forgotten me. Don't I mean anything to you?" Fedya looked at Gogol sadly. "Of course. Why do you think you're not dead?" And with that, Dostoevsky turned around, and led Chuuya out of the room with him. But not before Chuuya threw one last look over his shoulder at Gogol, this time with a whole lot more of his personality behind it.

When Gogol awoke he was surprised to find a tear running down his cheek. Over the course of the past three months, Gogol had been surprised to find he didn't miss Dostoevsky. At all, really. It was like a weight had been lifted from him. His mind was more clear. Gogol hated to admit it, but in hindsight, it really seemed like Dostoevsky had been using his power on Gogol, even though he'd promised repeatedly that he hadn't. Gogol knew he couldn't believe anything Fedya said, though. He was smarter now.

Gogol missed Sigma, though. His one true friend he couldn't save. And, as much as he truly hated to admit it, he missed Chuuya. He hadn't known him very well, but Chuuya had made Gogol so happy that day they'd done flying together. He wanted to do that again. He wanted to find Chuuya and tell him he was sorry he didn't help him more. Gogol wanted to see what Chuuya was like with Dostoevsky's power dictating most of his personality.

Gogol had been so surprised to see Chuuya in his cell the other day. It was obvious he didn't remember what had happened between them, and that was okay. That Chuuya wasn't real. He looked better off, now. He'd also stopped Tetchou from strangling Gogol, which was a definite point in Chuuya's favour. Gogol did so hope they could still get along.

It was then that Gogol heard the click outside his cell door. "Hello?" He called. "Is someone out there?" It was awfully late at night for somebody to be visiting him. Gogol sat up as the door opened. His insides turned to ice when he saw who it was. A young woman with a loose, flowing skirt, and a blue streak in her hair. "Meira." He said breathlessly. Her name was Meira Chand. She was a member of the decay of angels. The real ones. Gogol had only met her once, but he knew her by reputation.

"Nikolai." She said coldly. "Not only have you jeopardized this whole operation, you've managed to survive this long. Like an annoying cockroach that refuses to be crushed under my boot." Gogol tried to back away from her, but it wasn't like he could go anywhere in his cell. "Help!" He tried to call, but no one came. "None of that now." Meira said. "I'm afraid your luck has finally run out." The cell was engulfed by a massive wave of water.