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Unwanted desire

The Subconscious Counter-Attack

The Tomobiki High School courtyard was currently a battlefield of psychological trauma and high-velocity steel. Shuutarou Mendou, a man who usually prided himself on his aristocratic composure, was currently sprinting across the grass, his katana whistling through the air in a series of desperate, jagged arcs.

"Come back here, Moroboshi! I will cleanse this world of your existence and my own memory in one stroke!"

Ataru Moroboshi, possessing the supernatural agility of a man who spent seventy percent of his life dodging lightning bolts and flying furniture, leaped over a decorative hedge. "Stay back, you closeted canine! I’m calling the animal shelter! I’m calling the SPCA! You’re a danger to society and my personal space!"

"Good boy, Shuutarou! Sit! Stay!" Ataru cackled, ducking under a horizontal slash that took the top off a nearby rosebush.

"I will not sit! I will not stay!" Mendou’s face was a shade of crimson that suggested his blood pressure was currently high enough to power a small city. "That dream was a fabrication! A spiritual hallucination! A localized glitch in the fabric of reality!"

From the second-floor balcony, Lum, Shinobu, and Ryūnosuke watched the chaos with varying degrees of exhaustion. Lum held the Dream-Linker in her hands, tapping the glowing screen thoughtfully.

"You know," Lum said, her voice carrying that peculiar alien lilt, "the device doesn't lie. It only amplifies what’s already in the heart. I didn't know Mendou-kun felt so... subordinate."

Shinobu sighed, resting her chin on her palm. "I used to think he was so cool and mysterious. Now, every time I look at him, I’m going to see that golden chain. My romantic standards are plummeting by the second."

Ryūnosuke slammed a fist into the stone railing, cracking it. "I just want to know why I had to see it! My eyes feel like they’ve been scrubbed with salt! If they don't stop talking about 'good dogs' and 'masters,' I’m going to go down there and bury both of them in the sand trap!"

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the courtyard. The rhythmic *thump-thump-thump* of a helicopter echoed through the school grounds. A rope ladder dropped, and Ryōko Mendou descended with the grace of a Victorian doll, her thigh-length hair billowing in the rotor wash. Behind her, two Kuroko followed, carrying a tray of tea and a very large, ornate box.

"Oh, brother!" Ryōko called out, her voice sweet and dripping with hidden venom. "I heard you were having trouble sleeping. As your loving sister, I’ve brought a specialized remedy!"

Mendou skidded to a halt, his katana trembling in his hand. "Ryōko! Stay back! This is a sensitive matter of Mendou Zaibatsu honor!"

"Honor?" Ryōko landed lightly on the grass, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Is that what we're calling it now? I watched the live feed from the Black Glasses' hidden cameras. Your performance was quite... spirited. I especially liked the part where you whimpered."

Mendou fell to his knees, not in submission this time, but in pure, unadulterated defeat. "The cameras... you recorded it?"

"Recorded it? I’ve already had the marketing department draft a line of Mendou-branded pet accessories," Ryōko giggled, snapping her fingers.

The Kuroko opened the box. Inside was a literal mountain of golden collars, each engraved with the Mendou family crest.

Ataru stopped running and walked over, picking one up. "Hey, these look expensive. Maybe I can sell these and finally take Sakura-chan out for a decent meal."

"Touch those and I’ll have you court-martialed!" Mendou barked, regaining his feet.

Lum flew down, landing between Ataru and Mendou. "Wait! If Mendou-kun is this upset, it means the dream isn't finished. On my planet, if a dream causes this much trouble, we have to go back in and change the ending. Otherwise, the subconscious loop will continue forever!"

"Go back in?" Mendou recoiled as if stung. "Over my dead body! I will never enter that mental hellscape again!"

"It’s the only way, Mendou-kun," Lum insisted, adjusting the dials on her device. "If we don't fix the dream, you might start acting like a dog in real life. Your brain will get confused!"

"He already acts like a dog," Ataru muttered, though he looked worriedly at the sparks jumping from Lum’s horns. "He follows you around, he growls at me, and he’s obsessed with his territory."

"Moroboshi, I will end you!"

"Too late!" Lum shouted, hitting the 'Wide-Area Broadcast' button.

A massive dome of iridescent light erupted from the device, swallowing the courtyard. Ataru, Mendou, Lum, Shinobu, Ryūnosuke, and even Ryōko were pulled into the shimmering vortex.

When the light faded, they weren't in the courtyard anymore. They were standing in a distorted, dream-logic version of the Mendou estate. The sky was a deep, bruised purple, and the trees were made of twisted katanas. In the center of the garden sat a giant, throne-like chair made of octopus tentacles.

Sitting on the throne was the Dream-Ataru, looking ten feet tall and wearing a crown made of canned tuna.

"Welcome back, Shuutarou," the giant Ataru boomed, his voice shaking the ground. "Did you bring the others to watch your grooming session?"

Real-Ataru looked up at his dream-self. "Whoa. I look good. I should definitely start wearing a tuna crown."

"This is a nightmare!" Shinobu wailed, clutching her head. "Why am I in Mendou’s head? It’s so... so cramped and dark!"

"It's dark! It's cramped! I'm scared!" Mendou reflexively screamed, his phobias triggering even within his own mind. He dove into the nearest available space, which happened to be the shadow of Ryūnosuke’s cloak.

"Get off me, you coward!" Ryūnosuke yelled, kicking him away. "You’re in your own head! Control yourself!"

Lum hovered toward the giant Ataru. "Excuse me, Mr. Dream-Darling! You're being very mean to Mendou-kun. I need you to stop being a master and start being... I don't know, a rival or something!"

The giant Ataru laughed, a sound like grinding tectonic plates. "I am the manifestation of Shuutarou’s deepest fear: that he is actually inferior to a commoner! As long as he believes it, I have the power!"

"Inferior?" Mendou stopped shaking and looked up, his eyes narrowing. "I... inferior to that lecherous, penniless, library-overdue-fine-collecting peasant?"

"That's the spirit, brother!" Ryōko cheered from the sidelines, where she had somehow produced a bag of popcorn. "Fight your own insecurities! It’s much more entertaining than a soap opera!"

Mendou stood up, dusting off his white suit. The fear in his eyes was being rapidly replaced by the sheer, overwhelming arrogance that was his birthright. "You are not Moroboshi. You are a figment! A shadow! A smudge on the lens of the Mendou legacy!"

He drew his sword, but this time, the blade glowed with a fierce, white light. "I am Shuutarou Mendou! I own fifty-one percent of this country! I have a private army! I have a pet octopus that cost more than your entire neighborhood!"

The giant Ataru sneered, reaching down with a massive hand. "None of that matters here! Here, you are just a—"

"I AM A MENDOU!"

Mendou leaped into the air, defying gravity. He didn't just slash at the giant; he seemed to slice through the very air of the dream itself. "And a Mendou bows to no one! Especially not a version of Moroboshi that actually has good hygiene!"

"Hey!" the real Ataru shouted from below. "I bathed last week!"

The glowing katana connected with the giant’s tuna crown, shattering it into a thousand pieces of dream-sushi. The giant began to shrink, his cape dissolving into moths.

"No! My authority! My lap!" the Dream-Ataru cried, his voice pitching higher and higher until he was the size of a toddler.

Mendou landed gracefully, his sword held in a perfect guard position. He looked down at the tiny, whimpering dream-version of his rival.

"Now," Mendou said, his voice cold and commanding. "Who is the 'good boy' now?"

"You are?" the tiny Ataru squeaked.

"Wrong answer!" Mendou swung his sword, and the entire dream world shattered like glass.

The group woke up simultaneously on the grass of the Tomobiki courtyard. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the smell of ozone from Lum’s device lingered in the air.

Mendou was the first to stand. He looked revitalized, his shoulders back, his head held high. He looked at Ataru, who was still rubbing his eyes.

"Moroboshi," Mendou said, his voice steady.

"Yeah, yeah, you win the dream-fight," Ataru grumbled, standing up and dusting himself off. "But don't think this changes anything. You still had a wet dream about me. That’s a life sentence of mockery."

Mendou didn't draw his sword. He didn't scream. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out a checkbook, and scribbled something quickly. He ripped the check out and handed it to Ataru.

Ataru looked at the numbers. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Is... is this real? All these zeros?"

"That is a hush-money payment," Mendou said calmly. "If a single word of that dream leaves this courtyard, my family’s lawyers will ensure that you are legally declared a non-person. You will lose your citizenship, your birth certificate, and your right to use public restrooms."

Ataru stuffed the check into his pocket instantly. "Dream? What dream? I don't remember anything. I think I just had a very long nap."

"Good," Mendou said. He turned to the others. "Lum-san, Shinobu, Ryūnosuke... I trust you all value your continued well-being?"

Shinobu nodded quickly. "I’ve already forgotten the golden chain. It’s gone. Wiped clean."

Ryūnosuke crossed her arms. "As long as I don't have to see you two grinding on each other ever again, we’re square."

Lum giggled, floating over to hug Ataru’s arm. "I think it was a very sweet dream, in a weird way! It shows how much you two really care about each other!"

"WE DON'T!" both boys shouted in unison.

Ryōko walked over, patting her brother on the shoulder. "Well done, Shuutarou. You managed to buy your way out of a psychological crisis. Truly, you are father’s son."

"Thank you, Ryōko," Mendou said, though he looked suspicious. "Wait... where is the voodoo doll you were holding?"

Ryōko’s smile widened. "Oh, that? I dropped it in the dream. I wonder where it went?"

Deep within the recesses of Mendou’s subconscious, in a small, dark corner that the light hadn't reached, a tiny golden collar lay on the ground. It began to glow with a faint, rhythmic pulse.

Back in reality, Mendou suddenly shivered. A strange sensation, like a ghostly hand patting him on the head, washed over him.

"Is something wrong, Mendou-kun?" Lum asked.

Mendou straightened his tie, looking around nervously. "No. Nothing. I just felt... a sudden urge to fetch something. It must be the wind."

Ataru grinned, leaning back against a tree. "Hey Mendou, since I’m rich now, maybe I should buy a pet. What do you think? A golden retriever? Or maybe something a bit more... aristocratic?"

Mendou’s eye twitched. The calm he had fought so hard for began to crumble. "Moroboshi... I’ve changed my mind. The check was a down payment on your funeral!"

He drew his sword and the chase began anew, the familiar sounds of steel hitting school property and Ataru’s panicked yelps filling the air.

Sakura watched them from the infirmary window, taking a long sip of her tea. "Men," she sighed. "They’ll go to the ends of the universe and back just to avoid admitting they need a therapist."

Cherry popped up from behind her desk, startling her. "Indeed! The bond of rivals is like a bowl of ramen—hot, messy, and best enjoyed when someone else is paying for it!"

"Get out, Uncle!"

As the sun began to set over Tomobiki, the Mendou estate’s private jet flew overhead, dropping a single, solitary rose onto the courtyard. Whether it was a gesture of victory or a lingering symptom of the dream, no one could say. But one thing was certain: the heir to the Mendou Zaibatsu was going to be sleeping with his lights on for a very, very long time.