warnings: AU, ooc, character death, we'll see what else.
inspiration: "one day, robots will cry" by cobra starship
reasons: i waaaanted to?
rating: T
pairing: um...yamato/sayama in later chapters, implied ultimo/yamato
summary:
disclaimer: not mine, never will be.

ONWAAAARD 8D (runs offcliffbyaccident!!!!) X.x

00000000000

The first time Yamato had ever had the dream, he was maybe ten. A smiling boy, smaller than him, with bouncy steps and fluffed red hair had awaited him. All smiles, he'd instantly set upon tackling the weirded out boy. He babbled quickly, his high pitched voice cooing about how he missed him and that he was so happy he was back. Yamato, for his part, was shocked, and creeped out.

Who was this kid? Why was he talking like they were old friends, when he was certain they'd never met before? Climbing off of Yamato once he'd noticed how stiff the boy was, the redhead had the decency to blush.

"Uru just hasn't seen Yamato-sama in so long. Its been..." he started counting on the oddly large red gauntlets he wore, each finger long and sharp.

Eyes tracing the long sleek edges of the hands, the brunette stared, a sort of panic welling up. The redhead, who addressed himself as Uru, kept counting, running out of fingers and staring blankly. The green of his eyes shown a faint glow, unnatural red peering past the floor to somewheres Yamato could not see. He debated asking the smaller boy if he was alive still when his head sprung up, eyes glittering quickly and a smile on his face.

"Nine centuries, Uru thinks." he said brightly, eyes closing as he scooted closer.

Staring at the redhead oddly, Yamato debated questioning the kid's sanity. No one on earth could be alive for that long, even as young as he was, he knew that. This Uru kid must have some screws loose, he told himself. "What the heck are you talkin' about, weirdo?" he snapped, eye twitching.

Eyes snapping open, the green shimmering quickly, Uru stared at the boy in shock. Then, slowly, tears began to form in the corner of his eyes. "W-What...?"

"Nine centuries? Who are you kidding!" Yamato said, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who are you anyway! You cant just tackle me!! Whats with you, you're hands are all weird and your clothes!!" he rambled, the shock finally passing.

Uru looked down at his hakama and bib, and his large red gauntlets. Indeed, they were strange. The clothing itself wasn't anything normal people of this era would wear. The redhead sniffled, and wiped at his eyes with the human looking flesh of his arm that wasn't covered. Around his neck, and tied in neat bows was a black bib, poofing out slightly to make his gender almost questionable. His shoulders and upper arms were bare, abruptly being eaten by shiny red metal, the hands it formed too large to possibly be natural.

They looked like they'd be difficult to handle, Yamato thought, watching how the boy moved them easily with little effort. He sniffled again, large green eyes clearing to look blank again, save for that flashing. "I...suppose it makes sense. That WAS a long time ago, and Yamato-sama did die..."

Die? What the hell was he talking about? Glancing up, a tiny smile forming on the otherwise gloomy face, the redhead seemed to take comfort in his confusion. "Uru forgot." he said quietly, a tinge of sorrow in his words.

The next thing he saw was the white of his bedroom ceiling, the same ceiling he'd always seen it felt like. Blinking quickly, the boy sat up quickly, looking around. He saw no red hair, heard no clicking of metal on metal, and certainly no high pitched voices. It must have been a dream, Yamato told himself. His back and arms still ached faintly from the rough tackle, but he figured it was from playing yesterday.

After all, nothing that weird occurred in real life.

His first real experience with Uru was nothing short of strange, as he recalls it. And he'd never been so wrong in his life when he told himself it wouldn't happen twice.

000

"You're back! Uru was afraid you'd never return!"

Yamato blinked quickly, looking around himself. He was back in that strange faint blue world, where the colors were switching and fading slowly, and the only constant seemed to be the redheaded boy. This time, despite the boy's eagerness, he didn't full out tackle Yamato down. Instead he stayed firmly planted on the nonexistent floor, looking like all he wanted was to dart at the brunette.

"Y-You again..." he mumbled, eyes wide.

Uru smiled brightly and took a step towards the older boy. Yamato scrambled to his feet, backing away with every bouncy step. Frowning, the redhead stopped. "Why are you backing away...?"

"Why? Why shouldn't I!" he snapped, glaring at the pouting boy. "You cant be real, this must be some weird dream." he muttered, closing his eyes tightly.

Uru watched Yamato curiously, amused and confused by the reaction. "Uru doesn't think he's seen such an odd Yamato in a long time." he piped up, smiling a little.

Yamato kept his eyes closed. "I'm not odd. Odd is talking to hallucinations!"

"Well Uru isn't one, so then that doesn't make Yamato-sama odd, does it now?" the redhead hummed, closing the distance between the boys. He ducked his head a little, peering up at the in-denial boy through thin dark bangs. He smiled a little more. Uru didn't need to use any fancy powers to know that Yamato was freaking out. The way he fidgeted and stood so stiffly told him well enough.

The redhead waited patiently until his presence unnerved the brunette enough that he'd open his eyes, if only to see what Uru was doing. One dark eye opened slowly, peering down at the ducked and tilted head. It met unnaturally bright green eyes, and closed again. Finally, both eyes opened, watching the smaller boy as calmly as possible.

"What do you want..." he said, voice shaking only a little.

Uru gave him credit, he'd taken his presence far better than the others. He frowned, watching the nervous glint dance across Yamato's eyes. His own eyes flashed a slightly darker green, and he stood up straight. "Uru missed you..." he murmured.

Yamato's eye twitched. "How can you miss someone you never knew?"

"Uru does know you though." he said, completely serious. "We met nine centuries ago. Yamato-sama doesn't remember, but we did."

"No one could live nine centuries straight, genius." Yamato snapped in annoyance.

"You didn't."

The brunette stared at the strange redhead, who suddenly seemed all too disturbing and familiar. He shook his head, turning and beginning to walk away. "Right, whatever psycho. I'm leaving."

"Leaving where?" called a voice, followed by the sound of quiet foot steps.

"Home! Away from YOU!"

The foot steps kept going, sounding louder and louder. "Uru wont go away that easily. Uru's been alone for far too long." came a quiet reply, heavy with what could only be loneliness or sorrow. Something about the tone, the way it was said, told Yamato he should stop. He kept going, ignoring the faint voice that told him he'd regret trying to run from this problem.

The white of his ceiling had never been so comforting before in his life. He stared up at it for what seemed like years, just wondering if maybe he'd been wrong in his assumption. He still had the bruises from the week prior, and he could still feel a soft but piercing gaze on himself. After a while of just staring, Yamato sat up, glancing at his alarm clock. It read four forty eight, far too early for him to be up and about. But he'd be damned if he'd go to sleep again after that dream.

00000

When Yamato's mother noticed the bags that were slowly growing under her son's eyes she had been about to leave for work. The brunette was just sitting slumped over, eying his half eaten cereal blankly. He'd been up when she went to see if he was awake, but he looked like he hadn't slept at all. Slowing her pace, she hummed to herself.

"You look like you're dead. Whats wrong?" she asked, tone flat.

Blinking slowly, then quickly, the boy realized his mother had spoken. "Wha...?" he groaned, sitting up a little and scrubbing his eye.

Fushimi turned to look at Yamato, annoyed and partly worried. "I asked what was wrong."

Yamato was quiet, staring off into space. For a moment, the woman debated snapping at him or just turning and leaving. She didn't have the patience to deal with someone who wasn't even coherent. She glanced at the watch under her coat sleeve, eyes following the ticking hand. Turning, she sighed heavily, eyes narrowed at the door to their apartment. She hated that door. She hated this place even more. She needed to go to work, so she wouldn't ever have to stay here again.

Just as the blond woman reached the door, a quiet and partially slurred voice called. "Mom...do you ever...have weird dreams? Like...when you feel awake but...you know you aren't?"

Pausing, Fushimi turned her head slightly to eye her son. "What?" she snapped, impatient.

Head hanging slightly, Yamato glanced his his soggy breakfast. "I keep having this dream...of this weird boy who says I died, and that he knows me..." he confessed, as if he had a flesh eating disease.

The woman frowned a little. "Its just a dream. Dreams aren't real. Just don't pay them any mind." he stopped her for this?

The brunette flinched a little, but nodded absently. He could tell from the tone in his mother's voice that she wasn't in the mood for him or his problems, and wisely kept silent. When the door clicked shut, he eyed his cereal dully, not in the least bit hungry. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see a brief flash of color, or hear a fleeting hum. For last week, he'd been visiting that strange place every time he slept.

At first Yamato had ignored Uru, or walked out of the dream, but it was only a matter of time before he realized the redhead wasn't going to let him be. Even if he just sat there and ignored the redhead's existence, it wasn't like Uru didn't make himself known. He'd babble at him, hug him, tell him odd stories or even just sit there and hum. But he never simply left Yamato alone.

Yamato had decided: if Uru wouldn't leave him be, he'd simply avoid the cause of this. So he stopped going to sleep. It was hard, he always found himself drifting off, even if for only a minute. For those few minutes he slept, he received a hug or a wave, maybe even a prod. Usually Uru would be ecstatic, but eventually realized what time it was and urge the boy to wake up. When Yamato did, he would be worse than before he slept.

It was becoming difficult to hide the lack of sleep, or keep up with school and his friends. He'd have to figure something out soon, he thought groggily, standing up and carrying his bowl to the sink. The brunette splashed his face with water a few times, trying to force himself to be more alert. Only a little more, he told himself. Just until he figured something out or that creepy redhead vanished from his dreams.

0000

The dreams be came more and more frequent as the hours passed it seemed. Now, after only two weeks, he could HEAR him talk. No, Yamato corrected himself as he watched his teacher blankly, talk wasn't the right word. It wasn't in full sentences, or even thought processes, but snippets and words. From nowhere, words or phrases would pop into mind, distracting and baffling. It could be as simple as "hungry" or as complex as a proverb, and rarely did Yamato feel they fit the situation at hand.

What told him they weren't his own thoughts, was that usually they didn't pertain to him, and he usually never heard half the strange proverbs or phrases. Once he'd even heard the strangest song, one he was certain he hadn't known prior to the song. Said song was currently stuck in his head, repeating itself every few dozen minutes or so. Humming it quietly under his breathe, the brunette gazed blankly at the chalkboard, which was covered in notes he ought to be taking. He was just so tired though...he hadn't slept in days, nay, a full week almost (excluding ten minute long naps in class of course.).

There was a gentle but insistent prodding to his right, dragging Yamato from his thoughts. He turned his attention to the smaller boy, an almost over sized pair of glasses perched upon his small nose. Wide eyes studied his tired face, concern written all over Lune's face. "Are you okay...? You haven't looked so well all week..." he whispered.

What could he say to that? No, I'm being stalked by a strange redhead in my dreams, y'know like Freddy? Well he's been talking about how I've been dead, and how he misses me, so you see, I just haven't slept in almost two weeks. Thats all. Yamato knew that would blow over just fabulously. He shrugged absently, mumbling back. "Just haven't been sleeping..."

"Nightmares?" Lune questioned, blinking. "Was it the one about the pink elephant again? Yamato, you need to get over that, elephants aren't pink an-"

"NO!" he hissed, eye twitching. "Its not the pink elephant. That was years ago, I thought you said you wouldn't ever mention it again..."

The blond shifted a little, glancing away in mild shame. "Well it seemed plausible..."

The two lapsed into silence again, half fearful of the teacher, half uneasy. It was a sticky subject, the blond could understand. Whatever had kept his friend up for so long couldn't be anything short of hellish. Or, he assumed so. The pink elephant sure hadn't been. Strange, because honestly, what was so scary about being stuck in a room with a pink elephant that could sing in Scottish? Or the purple dragon and the black out? Maybe it really wasn't that bad, Lune thought with a sigh.

When he glanced back over to tease his taller, and usually more violent, friend, he noted he was asleep. Arms folded under his head, it looked almost like he planned to do so. Making a face, as this wasn't so odd nowadays, Lune just turned back to the board.

It wasn't five minutes later that a shriek resonated through the classroom, followed by a loud crash. Everyones attention snapped to Yamato, who was staring at Lune in horror with a dark red blush running across his face. It was quiet for a long moment, the blond boy watching his friend in confusion and concern. After a moment, the brunette blinked, and realization dawned on his face.

"Agari-kun?" the teacher called, concern all over her face.

Standing up quickly, the brunette looked like he'd never been more embarrassed in his life. "Y-Yeah?" he called back, voice just a bit too loud.

The woman's frown deepened. "Are you okay? Would you like to go to the nurse?"

Shaking his head quickly, looking at his feet in mortification, Yamato replied in the same loud tone. "N-No!! I'm fine, uh..." he quickly took his seat, staring at his desktop like he wanted it to eat him alive. Lune watched his taller friend in concern, waiting until the teacher had resumed her class --albeit awkwardly-- before he made any move to speak.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he whispered.

Blinking quickly, the boy felt his heart rate pick up, and he felt the urge to bang his head. "Uh...it was um...nothing."

The blond was unimpressed with the lie. "You just shrieked and fell from your chair. SOMETHING was wrong...was it...the purple dra-"

Yamato glared darkly, and shook a fist. "You said you wouldn't mention THAT either!" he whisper yelled.

Flinching away only a little, Lune pouted. "It seemed plausible..." he muttered.

They lapsed into silence, to which the brunette was thankful for. He wasn't sure he could ever live with himself if anyone else ever found out. But Lune wasn't finished it seemed. Honestly, the blond was just so curious, because little else than Sayama could fluster Yamato this badly. So naturally, he wanted to know what it was. "You can tell me...I wont tell anyone else." he whispered, leaning over a little.

A moment went by, and Lune debated re-asking, before Yamato headesked. He mumbled quietly, "It was...a weird dream...and I..."

Lune could see the tips of the boy's ears go red, even though he looked like he wanted to die. "Eh? You mean...one of those dreams?" Yamato was silent, but he went stiff. Rolling his eyes, amused, the blond fought the urge to laugh. "Thats perfectly normal for a boy our age. Whats so bad about it?"

A mumble.

The smaller boy frowned, leaning forward. "What?"

Another mumble, slightly louder. But it was still too quiet, and Lune found himself growing mildly impatient. "What?"

"IT WAS A BOY!!!"

The room fell silent, everyone stopping to stare at the beet red faced brunette, who had yelled the confession. Lune stared, shocked, and half embarrassed for his friend, who had just realized he'd shouted something like that. Eyes widening, Yamato felt the indescribable urge to bash his head into his desk, which would hopefully eat him. It did no such thing, leaving the brunette to suffer the awkward whispers and snickers.

The teacher slowly turned back to the board, brushing it off the best she could. As the lesson continued, there was a quiet, but distinct, sound of a head hitting a desk repeatedly.

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the last bit was for humor mostly D8 (theres a point to it though) there is a small joke about the purple dragon. my photo teacher was giving us an example XD "you need light for photos; so say you were in a room with this purple dragon, and you decided to take a picture of it. but then the lights go out, and you take the picture anyway! after you get out, you see nothing but a black square, and you cant retake the picture, because the dragon vanished during the blackout!" is pretty much where it came from.

aaaand theres a reason i keep addressing ultimo as uru (not just cuz it sounds cute) but cuz yamato doesnt know his name yet. so yeah. (isshot)

thaaaat aside, this chapter is so out!