thekingsgambit | IC: [Upper level of Boys 4 late late at night]

[His steps are unsteady as he enters the room; they'd been that way since his bare feet had first touched the cold wooden floors of his own. It was still a wonder he hadn't fallen to his knees immediately after. The dreams are still fresh in his mind. No, not dreams. Memories. Memories that should have disappeared along with his existence. That had been the plan. A plan they had carried out flawlessly. His hand goes to his chest at the thought, pushing against the simple white shirt of his old school uniform. He had been too anxious earlier to think to check the skin beneath the fabric, to check for a scar that he knew would be there. He had felt everything.

Thus, when the first thing he'd seen upon opening his eyes -- an action that shouldn't have been possible -- was his sister's dozing face, he'd been completely lost for response. Even as images of their last times together haunted the edges of his mind. Only his innate and by now second-nature concern over disturbing her allowed him to carefully but awkwardly leave the bed, every part of him trembling.

He knows why he had been there. He remembers her then-child hands gripping his shirt and pulling closer to him, as the two children had slept blissfully in each other's company, once more worn out by the excitement of the day. He remembers wrapping an arm around her and straightening her coverlet in his finicky, overly worried way. He remembers thinking about his new friends here. About Kallen, about Shiroe, about Su... Yes, he remembers it all perfectly -- And those impossible memories now find bitter company with ones of a much less innocent nature. Ones that still drive phantom pains through him as he clutches his shirt.

The coexistence of the two "lives" defies all logic. But so does this place. It always has.

He grips his hair. The insistent thought of how he shouldn't be here demanding an explanation. An immediate one! Nothing fits. Why can't he remember anything after that day... The last one he had spent in this room. C.C. had been here. And Euphie... He had tried to chase her away, but nobody could really deter Euphie once she set her mind to something... Just like -- Why couldn't he remember what happened? Why would this place expose him to everything else but not that? Had they gone home then? Back to Japan? How had they come back? Nunnally hadn't looked any different than before the Black Rebellion... Is this more of this place's tricks with time? What does that mean for the others? What about Zero Requiem? If they know --

No. This place has always toyed with life and death. Even going so far as to base resurrection on one's relationship with what might as well have amounted to a stuffed toy. That has its explanation at least. But still his presence can only cause problems for them now... He has to get away from here, to find someplace he can hide until any of this makes sense.

Even now he doesn't know what to believe. Everything feels... wrong. All he knows was in the moment he had woken up, he had desperately wanted to see Nunnally's beautiful blue eyes again. He would bear the terrible memories that came with it if he could just have that. He had never expected to see them again. He had never expected to see her again. And even after everything, that aching need to return to her now, to hold her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her, pulls at him relentlessly. Nunnally.

Somehow he ignores it, flashes of an overturned wheelchair and its screaming owner reminding him what he had decided a long time ago. He can not make exceptions. And now, he doesn't have the right. He had given it up for the sake of his dream, the sake of everyone's dream. Camp is taunting him with the promise of a second chance. He can no longer be selfish.