The glass shard wasn’t working anymore. Yashiro came and went as he pleased and no amount of hand maiming could make him leave earlier. All it did now was cause him to flicker at the edges.

He had disposed of the shard and decided that the only course of action was to rebandage his hand, as the linens he currently had on were soaked through with blood.

For some reason, Shiro had been kind enough not to stab his knife into Yuko recently. Instead, he had decided to play around with his new ‘ghost’ abilities such as floating and stabbing at other people, which caused no reaction. Yuko didn’t mind, it kept himself from being in excruciating pain, but it did make him wonder what his brother was planning.

“Who says I’m planning anything? I’m just biding my time until the main event. We both know that I’m not the thing you fear the most.”

Yuko glared at the elder boy as he headed down the hall towards his dorm. He didn’t want to think about them. They were the last thing he needed. He just wanted to fix his bandages and be done with this whole shitfest.

As he put his hand on the doorknob to open his door, Shiro made a noise that sounded like excitement. Yuko raised an eyebrow at him.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you~”

“I need to go in there. I need to fix my hand. It’s already going to scar terribly, I don’t need it getting infected.”

Yashiro’s simply smiled as Yuko pushed open the door. He outright cackled when Yuko slammed the door shut, and leaned heavily against it, sliding to the ground with a pained whimper.

Inside his dorm were dozens of faceless people. Men, women, children. All of them with blank faces void of eyes and mouths. All of them seemingly indifferent to the fatal wounds they sported. The wounds that were there because of him.

“Aww, come on Yasuko, let’s go in. I wanna see if I can make one of them make noise.”

Yuko shook his head. He wasn’t going in his dorm in the near future. He couldn’t face those people. Those whose deaths he was responsible for.

Shiro scoffed and began tracing patterns on the floor with his knife.

Setting the bloody piece of glass next to the sink, Yuko turned the water on. He waited for it to reach a lukewarm temperature before sticking his hand underneath the stream, hissing as it came into contact with his mained palm.

As much as permanently scarring his hand sucked, the constant, throbbing pain had managed to keep any hallucinations at bay.

He took the glass shard and ran it under the water, clearing it of blood, before placing it back on his palm. He took strips of white cloth he had taken from the laundry room and wrapped it around his hand. It would keep the glass in place and help soak up any dripping blood.

Yuko leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the glass of the mirror. So far, the bathroom had given him privacy, but a soft laughter off to his side changed that.

"Gotta say kid, I did not see you that coming. Maiming your hand to bring yourself back to reality, clever~"

"I just did what you would do..."

Yuko refused to look over at his older brother, he didn't want to believe that Shiro was back again. Didn't want to think what fresh hell he was about to deal with.

He didn’t want to believe Monofox. Call bullshit because there was no such thing as dream manipulation. But the hacker knew better. And judging by the reactions he had already seen, it wasn’t pretty. Yuko had retreated to the kitchen, hoping a glass of ice water would keep his nightmares at bay.

He leaned heavily against the counter as he drained the glass, feeling the icy liquid numbing the inside of his mouth. All was normal, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. A hand with black painted nails.

The sound of glass shattering as it was dropped echoed through the kitchen as Yuko whirled around, facing the person he had only seen in his nightmares.

Yashiro took a step back, the maniacal grin still plastered on his face. In the hand at his side, a closed butterfly knife, just like old times.

“Hey little bro, it’s been so long. Did you miss me?”

Yuko’s eyes widened in terror, backing away from his older brother. His back hit the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen. Yashiro let out a laugh at his antics, flicking open his knife, grin not faltering.

“Aww, c'mon Yasuko, that’s no way to greet your big brother. It’s been almost 2 years since we’ve seen each other, can’t even manage a hello?”

Yuko shook his head, hands coming up to grasp at his headphones. This wasn’t real. It was just an illusion, trying to get him to snap. Yashiro was hundreds of miles away. He wasn’t anywhere near the Tower.

“You sure about that?”

Yuko’s eyes snapped open, he wasn’t even aware that he had closed them, and stared into Shiro’s gold eyes. The taller boy was standing mere inches from him now, looming over, forcing Yuko’s back to press into the counter.

Shiro twirled his knife in his fingers, bringing it up towards Yuko’s face.

“I’m pretty sure that I’m right here, Yasu-chan. And we’re going to have so much fun.”

With a wink, Shiro flipped the knife one last time and slammed it down into the juncture between Yuko’s neck and shoulder.

Yuko woke up violently. His mind was still unaware that his body was awake. He couldn’t see the Tower, all he saw was home. And it terrified him.

Ripping the covers off, Yuko tried to scramble out of his bed. But, having not been used for a week, his legs weren’t having any of that.

He fell to the carpeted floor, his eyes glancing around wildly, not seeing. His fingers tightened in the plush fabric as he tried to pull himself forward.

Why weren’t his legs working, he needed to run. To get out. Get out. Get out.

Yuko yelped as the door was thrown open and a figure loomed within the opening. He brought his hands to his head and cowered away from the figure. A terrified whine escaped him as someone took hold of his wrists.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll go back. I’ll go back to the room. I’ll get whatever information he wants. I’ll find the location they wanted. Please! I’ll be good. Just don’t hurt me, please, Shiro…”