[there's no resistance; Ryuji is free to set the shades somewhere much safer than a sleeping Dave's face, or idly hanging in a half asleep Dave's hand — and that probably speaks a lot to the amount of trust at play here. those sunglasses are one of his most valuable possessions. they're the only thing he has left to remember a best friend he probably won't ever see again.]

[he's not really thinking about that though. pretty much every single alert brain cell is currently devoted to trying to imagine Ryuji roll around Tokyo like some sort of Dark Deva of Destruction, while some sort of giant angry Tuna Lisa is in hot pursuit. he might not be able to see Dave's eyes, but maybe Ryuji can spot the way his brows furrow in concentration over this apparently very important mental image.]

Y'know, I don't normally knock people for weird dream shit, but ... that's really fuckin' weird, dude.

[that piece said, he shifts a little, rolling his shoulder. Ryuji's liable to put him right back to sleep the longer he continues with the light head scratch.]

I had dreams like that up until I was 13. Then it was dream selves and dream bubbles and dumb shit like that for three years ... it kinda took a while to adjust to dreaming normally again.

— As normal as dreams about bein' a giant hamster can get, anyway.