In all honesty, Junpei couldn’t remember much of what’d happened this time.
He’d been so goddamn tired, his whole head had been fuzzed up- actually managing to communicate with other people properly had been hellish, and he’d barely been aware of what he was saying, let alone other people. He’d ended up mostly just parroting the others during the trial, hoping that something he was saying was making sense... because fuck if he knew if it was.
And yet, for all his trouble with communication, his eyes were working just fine- and seeing that gunshot had somehow been too much for him. He’d gone silent in the trial room, managing to mutter something soft about needing to leave- and then he’d gone immediately to his room, collapsing on a heap on his bed. He wanted to sleep, he was exhausted... and yet, his sleep wasn’t restful at all. It was plagued with nightmares, vague memories and echoes of the executions, the deaths, the murders- the blood and gore and violence playing on an endless loop in his mind, the stench of blood and something foul forcing its way into his nostrils and making him feel as though he was going to be sick.
They were dead. His friends had been murdered. He hadn’t been able to help them- he hadn’t been able to save them- they were dead, they were dead, they were dead-
Junpei awoke with something of a start, barely managing to stumble his way to the bathroom before he was sick, the burning feeling of acid in his mouth an unpleasant aftertaste.
He wasn’t as tired, and yet he didn’t feel rested at all... but he’d try to go back to sleep. Continuing on without any wasn’t going to be good for him at all...
Hopefully this time, he’d have a sleep without dreams.
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