Work Text:
On the first day of the seventh month during Rin’s third year at Sinegard, nothing special in particular happens. She gets up, dresses for the day, and goes to the main hall for breakfast. The scene that awaits her is a familiar one: students sitting slumped in their seats, half-asleep as they eat and rush to get their assignments done at the last minute. She makes her way to Kitay, who sits in their usual spot.
“Good morning,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. Kitay pushes a bowl towards her, which she takes with a grateful “Thanks.”
“How’d you sleep last night?” He asks.
Rin shrugs. “Fine, I guess. I had a weird dream.”
“Weird in what way?”
“Well, I can’t remember the details,” she says, pausing to inhale a mouthful of food. “I was standing on an island, I think. No, wait – I was on the ground. I was holding a knife in my hand, or maybe it was someone else? You were there, too. For some reason.”
“How did the dream end?”
Rin frowns as she chews. When she finally responds, she says, “I think I died.”
“Rin, that’s not a dream; that’s a nightmare.”
“You died, too.”
“So, because you died, I had to die as well?”
“Naturally.”
“Of course,” Kitay states, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t we die at the same time?”
“Right? Who would keep you company if I were gone? Nezha?”
Kitay mock-shudders. “Anyone but Nezha.”
“I’m sitting right here, you know,” a voice grits out. Startled, Rin turns to her left to find Nezha sat across the table, separated from them by Venka and Niang. He glowers at her. She returns it with a scowl of her own.
“Mind your own business.”
“I would if you two weren’t talking so loud and informing everyone of your morbid nightmare.”
“If it bothers you so much, move somewhere else.”
“I was here first. You move.”
“Kitay and I always sit here.”
Nezha feigns looking around at the surface of the table. “I don’t see your name written anywhere.”
“You know what, I’m starting to think that you were the one holding the knife in my dream."
His glare intensifies. “You wouldn’t even have to force me to hold it. I’d gladly slit your throat if it got you to shut up.”
Something about that doesn’t sound right.
“Heart.”
“What?”
“I was stabbed in the heart in my dream.”
“This is getting tedious,” Venka interrupts. She stands. “I’m going to Combat early. Do you want to come with, or do you want to continue bickering with Rin like you're an old married couple?” This last part is directed at Nezha. He springs up to leave the table, following Venka out of the main hall. Niang allows several seconds to pass before she removes herself as well.
Rin and Kitay eat in silence for a minute or two before Kitay speaks up again.
“How did I die?” At her puzzled expression, he elaborates, “You were stabbed in the heart. How did I die?”
The specifics of her dream elude her the more she tries to mentally grab at them, like fine grains of sand slipping between her fingers. The tighter she clenches her fists, the more she loses.
“Maybe you were so devastated by my death that you died of heartbreak.”
“It’s possible. Studies have shown that great stress can affect cardiac health.”
Rin laughs. “In that case, we’re fated to die together in any scenario.”
“I’d have it no other way.”