He is dreaming.

That much he does not doubt for a second. It has been happening to him a lot, after all, and he has learned to recognize the ever-changing world of dreams every time he sees it.

He is talking with someone. He thinks it is Haruka-san, except there is no cigarette, so maybe it's just Doumeki, except it's a girl, so maybe it's Kohane-chan, except the smile is off, so maybe it's Himawari-chan, except he doesn't dream of Himawari-chan and so it must be -

a child he knows better than himself cries out to him to not disappear
a girl with a broken smile holds him close and whispers please take care of yourself
a boy watches him, grave and serious and concerned, too openly, too unguardedly, shouts Watanuki -

a butterfly caresses his face -

xxx

{For a second he is the butterfly ;
fresh out of his cocoon and into real, harsh, eternally fleeting life, with the beautiful colorful plentiful wings batting madly to escape from the spider's web
and only entangling him further in silken threads.}

xxx

- some thing crashes into his dream.

It has a trunk like a monstrous elephant's ; it has claws like an enormous tiger's ; it has eyes like jewels born in a volcano and it has a mouth like a bottomless pit. It snakes through the fabric of his dream, pounds onto the invisible intangible ground, shatters the faces of the faceless person facing him, and the wings of the butterfly

It opens its dark, dark unending mouth,
and eats it all.

He screams, voiceless, and stumbles.

He opens his eyes.

What... was that ?

Baku, Yuuko-san breathes. Dream-eaters.

A long puff of dark smoke trickles out from open crimson lips, that curl into a smirk.

You really don't dream very well, if even in dreams you still manage to get into trouble.

He turns around.

xxx

He opens his eyes, and there's no one here anymore.