4:11 || k.tsukishima

[Prologue]

"Hello?"

"Who are you?"

"What do you want?"

A figure stands in front of you. A man that kept occurring in your dreams for the past two past weeks. The man who has no name, no voice, no identity. You never saw his face, his front side hidden from you. No matter which direction you move, his face is never shown. No matter how close you get to him, it seems as if he's moving further away.

You stare at his back for the 15th night in a row, asking the same question. He's tall with a medium build with a phone in his right hand. He checks his phone frequently as if he was expecting someone.

Tonight, something was new about him. He had a watch around his left wrist. It looked expensive, but the glass is broken and the hands of the watch seem like it didn't work anymore. You look around the room to see the same dim-lit room filled with candles and books. The scent of the candle entrances you, it smells like freshly baked goods. The room was nothing out of the ordinary, it felt warm and homely.

He suddenly walks away from you, walking through a hallway. You follow after him as he opens the door looking around the room. His steps are slow and heavy.

You sigh as you were going through the same dream for the 15th time. You knew where this dream went: follow the man to the room as he opens a drawer. A drawer that had a single item in it, a red scarf. He would wear it and take a walk in the cold winter night.

But something didn't feel right. He had a watch, a broken watch that was stuck. He never had a watch the past nights. This time he looked nervous and he was on edge. You watched as he headed for the closet constantly looking behind him. You walk closer to him, actually getting closer to him than you ever did the previous nights. As you were getting closer, you got a glimpse of a necklace dangling off his neck. "A"

You stare at the jewelry as you reach out to him finally being close enough to touch him. You needed to know who he was.

Before your hand made contact with his shoulder, a bullet zoomed in front of you. It shot straight through in the man's head, his blood and brain spurted out on the wall and all over you. You scream as you fall backward in shock, taking in the lifeless man in-front of you. You looked around but there was nothing in sight. Heart racing you scrambled to get on your feet but froze as you heard a voice calling out for you. A faint voice crying out for help. Frozen in place you look at the door, a black figure smiling straight at you. Eyes glistening, smile wide, and proud.

His hands reached out for you, his mouth above your ears whispering "You're next". You stare at his glowing red eyes as he smiles taking in your form. He placed the gun between your temple and pulled the trigger.

You jolt up from the bed breathing heavily. Your eyes adjust to your bedroom looking at the clock, 4:11 am. Your eyes widen as you turn on the light looking at your surroundings. You were in your room. As your heart calms down and your breathing slows, you open up your journal and start writing.

A man with a necklace that has the the letter "A" on it and a broken watch, dies by an unknown man with red glowing eyes.

- 1.24.20

Pushing back your hair, you look at the picture frames at your bedside. It was you and Sugawara smiling brightly at the camera arms around each other. You couldn't help but smile at the sight. He was your best friend. Your angel. Turning off the light and taking a deep breath, you pull up the blanket close to you falling into a deep slumber.

______________________________

"How are you feeling (Y/N)"

"I feel like shit"

"How was your dream last night?"

"Different."

"Different?"

You sigh as you look at your therapist in front of you. He was fairly attractive with a friendly face and calming eyes. Your friends recommended him after hearing your unusual reoccurring dreams. He recommended you to write out your dreams, a method he liked to call "find the similarity". You had to pick out what your dream kept in and what your dream kept out to see if the same things had a meaning to it.

At first, you cringed at the thought, you felt as if it was unnecessary. You weren't one to write in 'journals' which you made quite clear to your therapist. He ignored your complaints and urged you to keep doing it and you did.

It was good for the most part, everything seemed to be the same. The same guy in the same room walking through an empty hallway to get his red scarf to disappear in the winter night. But this time, nothing was the same.

"He broke his routine"

__________

愛は風のよう、あなたはそれを見ることはできませんが、それを感じることができます

[Love is like the wind, you can't see it, but you can feel it]