hh_mirror

So, it seemed that Shito was stuck in this weird place, unable to leave. It bothered him that his right hand didn't bother him. Shouldn't that mean Akatsuki was near, but he hadn't heard him (and with as loud as the blond was prone to be, he should have), but his hand wasn't starting to rot off like it had when they had been separated, like he knew it should be. Was this place some kind of alternate world, like the one that the shinigami and the watashimori inhabited? Or was this some kind of weird, convoluted dream or hallucination, maybe induced by Toho? He still hadn't decided, but the Hat had told him he belonged in Slytherin, wherever that was. He didn't particularly care to talk to the large-eared creatures as they had to be part of this whole dream. The humans, though, they might be real—they looked real.

What he really wanted was his room with his My Betty 2 dolls and his collection of pop culture arranged just so around his room. The thought of Kita or Akatsuki, or worse, Toho, in his room, made him shudder. He really didn't want to think about that.

Maybe his 'room' here would actually be his room and he would wake and find this all a dream? For the first time in one hundred fifty years, he wondered what it would be like to be drunk, if he could really forget.

He didn't notice he was getting more and more lost as he walked until he looked up and saw tattered wall hangings and sparse lighting. He stopped, turning around in place. "Where am I now?" he demanded, his voice far more world-weary than his appearance as a sixteen year old could account for.