Chittering laughter, a noisy black box in the middle of his room. Water, water everywhere. In his hair, his eyes his mouth- Sitting in a seat, moving, driving. Small hands, reaching forward, fingers grasping at the soft clothing. A tug. Why won't she look at me? Do it again, she'll look. Again, again, AGAIN- *SCREEEEEEEEECH-* Too fast can't stop too fast- My eyes snapped open, darting around. My vision was blurred with red and bright, bright lights. Too bright, too loud. I couldn't see a thing. I squinted my eyes against the blare, rolling onto my side. My movements were restricted by some white fabric, and I was on some sort of elevated surface, because I toppled off the edge of it. Twice. And hit what I can only assume was hard cement. Ugh. Ow ow owwww... Pain, pain EVERYWHERE. Under my skin and in my bones, my lungs were heavy, my fingers felt alien (Are they really mine?). Lights, searing and unforgiving, flashing and beating down on me. It's too much. I have to get out of here. Wherever HERE is. Hand over hand, I crawl. I dragged myself forward, moving blind. The lights were too bright to see through, but getting dimmer the further I went. Seems this direction is the best to go. I kept moving, stringing my weakened body along with me, feet scuffing painfully against the ground. Am I.. barefoot? WHY??? You know what, doesn't matter. I have to get out of this light, and take stock of my situation. I didn't stop moving, despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, until I reached an area that was pretty dark, seeing the way the light faded from behind my closed eyelids. Utterly drained, I went limp the instant I was in the dark. Sweet, sweet sleep. Oh how I've missed you... How does one manage to lose a whole dead body? That's a question Kagashi WISHED he had an answer to. He'd driven one whole hour to get back to the morgue and now here he was, staring at an empty stretcher. The white sheets were rumpled, hanging off the side. And the body was gone. Why, why the hell didn't I CHECK? The answer was simple, really. He hadn't expected to need to double check on a BODY of all things. Why would he? It's not like the kid would wake up and walk away. But whatever had happened, the body was gone NOW and it was HIS problem. Right now, he had two options; A. Do the right thing and tell his boss that he lost the body and call for a search. Or B. Don't say anything, and let the family grieve over an empty casket. Whichever one he was going to pick, he better pick FAST, because the others were coming. . . . ...B it is. As much as Kagashi would like to say he's a just and upright man, he's just washed his mouth and isn't in the mood to be spouting such filthy, seething BULLSHIT! If he were to tell ANYONE of what happened, his job was done for and he was going to the streets. And sorry not sorry, he's got bills to pay and a girlfriend to provide for. The brat's already dead anyways, not like it matters, right? R I G H T ? ...Yeah, he's not breathing a WORD of this to ANYONE. All Kagashi had to do was hide the fact that the body was gone. So, a fake was needed. What did it matter if the family were crying over a fake body? They were grieving a REAL death either way, so whether it was flesh and bone in that casket or synthetic skin didn't matter. ...But still. As Kagashi pulled the white sheet over the fake, he pressed a hand briefly to his chest and closed his eyes. Please, don't let anything happen to him. Even in death, no one deserves to be desecrated in any way. Please please PLEASE don't let anything touch his body. God bless.

Let's play the cards I've got!