Chuuya 's alarm clock is the heavy pounding in the back of his skull. He tries to blink, fails because it 's like trying to peel hardened glue off his face with bare fingers. So he rolls over with a low groan, fighting the instinct to sink back into the murky darkness he 's been swimming in up until now.

When he finally manages to pry his eyes open, the ceiling stares flatly back at him

He lets out a breath. Then his brows tug into a frown as the clammy sweat that clings to his chest announces itself with an uncomfortable flash of heat, making him kick the sheets aside and sit up in bed, a whirlpool of nausea and dread bubble to the surface inside of him.

Something happened

, Chuuya thinks.

Something really shitty.

He can 't remember what exactly yet, feeling like he is chasing the fading remnants of a nightmare, except that it 's there, on the edge of his vision, and '