[It happens the same way it always does: by sneaking carefully into the master bedroom of the mansion, testing the floor for any unevenness or rotted boards, following after Brob as he leads the way. There are two separate beds (odd for a married couple?), matched nightstands, a big bureau with a mirror on it--all normal things you'd expect to find in a bedroom. There's someone behind him too, following him in, but Dante's paying more attention to what's going on before them, trusting Toushiro to watch their backs.
And then, just like clockwork, there are game show lights flashing, the both of them thrown into the separate beds as their ghostly host descends from the ceiling. "Hello, and welcome to this week's edition of Family Feud!" He does his intro with the usual exuberance, pausing before adding: "Not to be confused with the real Family Feud, aha. I'm your host with the most, Ghost. Are you ready to play a game?"]
Not again... I've played your game before!
[He wants so desperately to summon his sword, but it's of no use to even try: he's already bound, the sheets having lashed around their arms to bind their hands behind them and tie them up against the headboard, but if he even twitches his fingers they'll wrap him even tighter, pinning his hands flat and ensuring he can't budge them an inch. It's useless, just like every other time he's had this dream.
But one thing's different about the dream this time: when Dante glances toward where Toushiro should be on the other bed, there's somebody else instead.]
kiyomitsu; and the only chance we have of moving on
And then, just like clockwork, there are game show lights flashing, the both of them thrown into the separate beds as their ghostly host descends from the ceiling. "Hello, and welcome to this week's edition of Family Feud!" He does his intro with the usual exuberance, pausing before adding: "Not to be confused with the real Family Feud, aha. I'm your host with the most, Ghost. Are you ready to play a game?"]
Not again... I've played your game before!
[He wants so desperately to summon his sword, but it's of no use to even try: he's already bound, the sheets having lashed around their arms to bind their hands behind them and tie them up against the headboard, but if he even twitches his fingers they'll wrap him even tighter, pinning his hands flat and ensuring he can't budge them an inch. It's useless, just like every other time he's had this dream.
But one thing's different about the dream this time: when Dante glances toward where Toushiro should be on the other bed, there's somebody else instead.]
Ki... Kiyo? What are you doing here?!