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Momiji rubs his head, and orders another tea from the bar. He'd promised Enzo to not do anything, but it couldn't be anything bad, right? No need to be concerned about it.
But it wasn't just a headache, and Momiji knows it. It felt like when Akito called all the Zodiac. It was a compulsion and he couldn't fight it. Already the stress has gotten to the point where Momiji has turned into a rabbit several times. The compulsion lessened in his rabbit form, and eventually the boy returned to well, being a boy. Thankfully, every time had happened when he was alone and still close to his clothing so no one had commented at the naked boy in the bar.
Every time he turned though, it helped less, and less. It was becoming less of a feeling now, and more of an actual command.
Come.
Momiji tried his best to ignore it. Sleeping didn't help, the voice was louder in his dreams.
Come.
It didn't offer any reasons or incentives for Momiji to come. Just a powerful insistence that this was what the boy was GOING to do. No matter how long it took, he would come to the house.
Momiji clutches the doorway tight with one hand. Maybe if he just opened it, if the thing thought that he was getting his way, the voice would stop long enough for him to go inside.
The door handle turns, almost as if the boy is no longer controlling his actions. And he isn't. All that he can hear now is the voice.
Come. Come. Come. Come.
I'm coming. I'm coming.... Momiji manages to fight just enough to keep his pace to a walk, but he's no longer completely in control. The voice wants him to come.
He's coming.
But it wasn't just a headache, and Momiji knows it. It felt like when Akito called all the Zodiac. It was a compulsion and he couldn't fight it. Already the stress has gotten to the point where Momiji has turned into a rabbit several times. The compulsion lessened in his rabbit form, and eventually the boy returned to well, being a boy. Thankfully, every time had happened when he was alone and still close to his clothing so no one had commented at the naked boy in the bar.
Every time he turned though, it helped less, and less. It was becoming less of a feeling now, and more of an actual command.
Come.
Momiji tried his best to ignore it. Sleeping didn't help, the voice was louder in his dreams.
Come.
It didn't offer any reasons or incentives for Momiji to come. Just a powerful insistence that this was what the boy was GOING to do. No matter how long it took, he would come to the house.
Momiji clutches the doorway tight with one hand. Maybe if he just opened it, if the thing thought that he was getting his way, the voice would stop long enough for him to go inside.
The door handle turns, almost as if the boy is no longer controlling his actions. And he isn't. All that he can hear now is the voice.
Come. Come. Come. Come.
I'm coming. I'm coming.... Momiji manages to fight just enough to keep his pace to a walk, but he's no longer completely in control. The voice wants him to come.
He's coming.
