[ fear ] sender finds receiver having a nightmare
Though he hadn’t actually been there at the moment of the crash, Jimin’s imagination has done a relentlessly good job recreating the scene while he dreams. The way the car speeds, endlessly slowly yet there in the blink of an eye. The way it hits his twin brother. The cartoonish abundance of blood that can’t be realistic, but a sleeping Jimin isn’t aware of reality enough to know that. It’s like watching two scenes at once: there’s the start of it, the buildup to the scene that creeps by, like watching the second hand of a ticking clock. The way a minute feels like an hour. Then it’s as if it has already happened, and Eiji is laying there in the street, his body mangled in a growing pool of his own blood. Sometimes the car stops, lingers. Sometimes it speeds away. Sometimes it simply disappears as if it had never been there to hit his brother, yet his brother is always broken in the street. It plays over and over and over-
In the waking world, Jimin is curled upright on a bench, his ears and tail twitching and the occasional soft whimper coming up from his throat.
