mission report for crazy_otaku911
Mission report for crazy_otaku911
Delivered by: sakurachirari
Title: The Out of Body Experience
Pairing: Miura Haruma/Takaki Yuya
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Summary: 'You're dead, but you're not really dead.' Haruma doesn't understand, Takaki doesn't understand, too. 1971 words
Notes: For crazy_otaku911 . It's not exactly a shippy fic and not really sci-fi or futuristic, but I tried my best. I hope you like it *o*
the moment you feel a barrel to the side of your forehead, what do you think of?
it was in a dark alley, with my face pressed along brick wall. you got beat up after running into some old gang rivals back in high school. it was in that kind of dark alley you'd see in movies, with laundry lines strung up on the second and third floors, dumpsters inches away from your chest, so close you could smell what kind of rotten vegetable, expired beverage was thrown inside. thinking of all of this in a single moment, you kinda feel sorry for the garbage collectors who have to clean this shit up.
on the other hand though, you'd rather be one of those garbage collectors hoarding black bags of trash onto trucks than be pushed up on a brick wall with a gun to your left temple right now.
"listen up, takaki. you didn't see no nothing. there was no suitcases, no men, no blackjack. you didn't see no nothing."
really, in these kinds of situations- you don't actually have the nerve to say you saw something. probably, you aren't even thinking, listening, understanding what he just said. you just shake your head and beg him "i didn't see anything, i promise." then, like some badly-written script- the guy says "yeah, that's right. if you tell anybody, ya know what's gonna happen. but, i can't really trust you, can i?"
the gun clicks. bullet fires through your skull and buries itself halfway through the brick wall.
your last thought is blank.
it was all so sudden that you didn't even have time to think, even for a second. you didn't even hear a blast, it was just sudden darkness- and then it was over.
everything is black, you feel liquid trickling out of your head and hurried footsteps fading with each light thud that you hear. this must be how being blind feels like, you think. then, you remember that blast to your head and everything falls quiet.
it's kind of weird. you can actually feel your whole body softening up, your mind clearing up, your mouth falling open. you know your eyes are open, but you can't see. it's like wearing an eye mask at 6 in the morning. you can't move, you can't yell out for help.
this must be how dying feels like.
….
but, it really is kind of weird, isn't it?! aren't people supposed to die right away? plus, a shot through your head goes through your brain, right? that means every kind of activity your body had would stop right away, like a power switch, doesn't it? so, what exactly was happening?
"hey, get up."
'wh-what?!'
"hey, wake up. you look stupid when you're dead. kinda like a fish for sale in the supermarket." someone laughs. your left arm gets pulled up, your legs shake and give out, face colliding with the ground again. you hear someone scoff and pat your back once. "c'mon, bud." it's a man, from the tone of the voice. your vision comes back fuzzy like an old television set in black and white as you come down with a terrible, terrible headache.
"oh.."
"yeah, it's always like this the first time you wake up. don't worry, it'll be over after five minutes. trust me."
you can't move anything, but you can see. you figure you can move your head since you can feel your eyebrows scrunching up together, so you try moving your lips.
"ohh.."
"that's right, try moving your right hand. get up."
your hand twitches a bit, it's a bit hard to move. you feel the man's presence lingering near your hand, and the stare he's giving your hand. you can't see it, but you could feel it. your wrist turns until it touches the asphalt. you manage to pull yourself up with that one hand until you're sitting upright, swaying to the sides every moment. like a child learning to walk.
the fuzziness is gone, a television set who's been smacked enough times to get a good signal. but it's still black and white.
you look up at the man and he looks down at you. like how a patient does to a doctor. he touches his pulse, then yours, then his forehead, the yours. after this, he nods to himself.
"hey, you're dead."
at first, you kinda want to laugh. 'of course i'm dead! i got shot in the head, of course i'd be dead!' you want to tell him, maybe even punch him on the shoulder playfully as if you'd known him for ages. then, you understand why he touched your pulse point, and your forehead, then wonder if you really are dead.
you touch your head, expecting it to hurt, to feel thick liquid oozing out of a still-warm hole.
but, there's nothing there.
the man's laughing, "i told you- you're dead. don't even try to doubt me when you know it yourself." he gets up and you can only watch as he walks away with both hands in his pockets. this time, when you get up to chase after him- you have no getting up running to him.
"w-wait!"
he looks back at you and then you're suddenly staring at each other like strangers.
"you want me to tell you what the heck's happening, right?"
out of breath and words from just running after him, all you manage to do is nod.
"it's a bit complicated, but to put it frankly- you're dead. we're both dead, actually. but, there's still one thing left for us to do. even i don't know what is it, but- as long as we don't do it, we're stuck here."
you nod slowly, slowly comprehending what he had just said.
"you know what we are? we're like those people who just mysteriously disappear. come to think of it, a lot of those people are like us, too. get what i mean?" he gives a refreshing smile, a smile you wouldn't normally see at times like these. he walks forward, instinctively you follow him.
"um- who are you?" you ask. and you mean it. because of genuine curiosity and the dependence you feel for him.
he stops walking again to look back at you, and you wonder if people can see you two- dead people.
"i'm haruma. i just died four days ago. if you read the newspaper, i'm that guy who vanished after that cross-country accident in kanagawa. i wasn't a part of those guys riding around those cars, but i was a student walking on the way to school. one car hit me and then i fell into the river and probably washed up somewhere. all i know is- maybe i died after losing consciousness after being hit by that car… or maybe i died right away? i can't really remember." he's saying this while laughing, like he's telling a joke. you can't understand why, but maybe that was how he was.
"oh, and you are? what's your name?"
"i'm takaki." you say.
"hey, takaki." he slings his arm over your shoulder and gives an interested look. "that was pretty interesting back there! i was actually just passing by when i saw you in that alley being threatened by that scary guy. what'd you do?"
"i saw.. some guys gambling and suitcases full of money. that scary guy was the boss' cousin. the boss owns the restaurant i was working at. i think he didn't know his cousin killed me, and i don't think he'll care when he finds out."
haruma's hold on you loosens a bit when he suddenly stops walking. you look up and see two cars in front of you.
"it's them. those cars. they're the ones who-"
turns out, that one thing you had to do, you had to do it with him.
--
sitting on the front stairs leading to the restaurant, you learn that the ones who had killed haruma were the same guys you saw gambling a while ago.
"is it okay for us to sit here? won't they see us?" you ask, haruma lifts one eyebrow then chuckles.
"haven't you realized that four people have already passed by us this past minute?" haruma points out, waving his hand back and forth the railings.
oh.
"so, what's your plan?" you ask him. his grin loses its touch and his head falls. "i don't really know.. to tell you the truth- i'm actually pretty scared." he rubs his hands together when a cold breeze passes through, it's weird, you think, weird that you can still experience cold and feel scared.
"scared? don't you feel mad?"
"how about you? don't you feel scared?"
you tear your eyes away from him and stare at the flickering lights of the convenience store across the street. "rather than being scared or angry- i feel strangely empty. like i don't know what to do anymore. like, is this what being dead really must be like? what is there left for me to do, anyway? when people can't really see me at all?"
the door opens behind you two and you both look back to see the man who had just killed you earlier with three other well-built men carrying the suitcases you saw.
haruma turns pale and you struggle to catch your breath.
but you can't.
because you're dead.
realizing this while staring up at them, you take a stand and hold out your hands- waiting for them to pass. haruma looks up at you expectantly and they pass through, talking in hushed tones. but when they do, they all stop and look back.
"whoa. did you- did you just-"
"i felt a cold spot there."
"yeah, wonder what it must be."
"scared the shit out of me." the guy who killed you shakes his head as he continues down the path to hold a door open for the three men. 'wow', you think, 'i got killed by a door opener.'
"the reality of it all is hard to absorb, right? you're still at that stage where you know you're dead- but you're not sure how to feel about it." haruma sighs, you hear him get up and then feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder. "but you still have a chance." he says, then suddenly he's running for the car, and you can't stop him.
he stops just when the car is inches in front of him.
you don't even have the time to shut your eyes.
and then you hear it.
haruma rolls off the road, the car swerves and crashes into a telephone post. a street light falls on top of the hood and the engine bursts, the car horn blares and you can imagine that door-opener with his head on the steering wheel, eyes staring off to open space.
haruma isn't moving, there are no sounds of life coming from the car, either.
but rather than being scared or angry, you still feel strangely empty.
--
then, you wake up.
"hey kid, you alright?" someone nudges your shoulder until you find the strength to open your eyes only to shut them back again because of the blinding light. your head hurts like shit.
"awww.. god."
"are you drunk, kid?"
you swing your right arm over your forehead and open your eyes just a little bit to see that it was a garbage collector who had woken you up. you groan as you lift a hand up, he takes it and helps you up. your head hurts so bad, you can't help but fall backwards, the garbage collector catching you just in time.
"what's your name kid?"
you don't remember anything.
HEADLINE NEWS: YAKUZA BOSS AND THREE HENCHMEN DIE IN A MYSTERIOUS CAR CRASH
SHINJUKU, TOKYO -- At around 2:30 a.m. Tokyo Eagles Yakuza Leader Managawa Toshiro and three unidentified henchmen, died in a car crash with no-
the news you hear on tv makes no sense, too.
Delivered by: sakurachirari
Title: The Out of Body Experience
Pairing: Miura Haruma/Takaki Yuya
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Summary: 'You're dead, but you're not really dead.' Haruma doesn't understand, Takaki doesn't understand, too. 1971 words
Notes: For crazy_otaku911 . It's not exactly a shippy fic and not really sci-fi or futuristic, but I tried my best. I hope you like it *o*
the moment you feel a barrel to the side of your forehead, what do you think of?
it was in a dark alley, with my face pressed along brick wall. you got beat up after running into some old gang rivals back in high school. it was in that kind of dark alley you'd see in movies, with laundry lines strung up on the second and third floors, dumpsters inches away from your chest, so close you could smell what kind of rotten vegetable, expired beverage was thrown inside. thinking of all of this in a single moment, you kinda feel sorry for the garbage collectors who have to clean this shit up.
on the other hand though, you'd rather be one of those garbage collectors hoarding black bags of trash onto trucks than be pushed up on a brick wall with a gun to your left temple right now.
"listen up, takaki. you didn't see no nothing. there was no suitcases, no men, no blackjack. you didn't see no nothing."
really, in these kinds of situations- you don't actually have the nerve to say you saw something. probably, you aren't even thinking, listening, understanding what he just said. you just shake your head and beg him "i didn't see anything, i promise." then, like some badly-written script- the guy says "yeah, that's right. if you tell anybody, ya know what's gonna happen. but, i can't really trust you, can i?"
the gun clicks. bullet fires through your skull and buries itself halfway through the brick wall.
your last thought is blank.
it was all so sudden that you didn't even have time to think, even for a second. you didn't even hear a blast, it was just sudden darkness- and then it was over.
everything is black, you feel liquid trickling out of your head and hurried footsteps fading with each light thud that you hear. this must be how being blind feels like, you think. then, you remember that blast to your head and everything falls quiet.
it's kind of weird. you can actually feel your whole body softening up, your mind clearing up, your mouth falling open. you know your eyes are open, but you can't see. it's like wearing an eye mask at 6 in the morning. you can't move, you can't yell out for help.
this must be how dying feels like.
….
but, it really is kind of weird, isn't it?! aren't people supposed to die right away? plus, a shot through your head goes through your brain, right? that means every kind of activity your body had would stop right away, like a power switch, doesn't it? so, what exactly was happening?
"hey, get up."
'wh-what?!'
"hey, wake up. you look stupid when you're dead. kinda like a fish for sale in the supermarket." someone laughs. your left arm gets pulled up, your legs shake and give out, face colliding with the ground again. you hear someone scoff and pat your back once. "c'mon, bud." it's a man, from the tone of the voice. your vision comes back fuzzy like an old television set in black and white as you come down with a terrible, terrible headache.
"oh.."
"yeah, it's always like this the first time you wake up. don't worry, it'll be over after five minutes. trust me."
you can't move anything, but you can see. you figure you can move your head since you can feel your eyebrows scrunching up together, so you try moving your lips.
"ohh.."
"that's right, try moving your right hand. get up."
your hand twitches a bit, it's a bit hard to move. you feel the man's presence lingering near your hand, and the stare he's giving your hand. you can't see it, but you could feel it. your wrist turns until it touches the asphalt. you manage to pull yourself up with that one hand until you're sitting upright, swaying to the sides every moment. like a child learning to walk.
the fuzziness is gone, a television set who's been smacked enough times to get a good signal. but it's still black and white.
you look up at the man and he looks down at you. like how a patient does to a doctor. he touches his pulse, then yours, then his forehead, the yours. after this, he nods to himself.
"hey, you're dead."
at first, you kinda want to laugh. 'of course i'm dead! i got shot in the head, of course i'd be dead!' you want to tell him, maybe even punch him on the shoulder playfully as if you'd known him for ages. then, you understand why he touched your pulse point, and your forehead, then wonder if you really are dead.
you touch your head, expecting it to hurt, to feel thick liquid oozing out of a still-warm hole.
but, there's nothing there.
the man's laughing, "i told you- you're dead. don't even try to doubt me when you know it yourself." he gets up and you can only watch as he walks away with both hands in his pockets. this time, when you get up to chase after him- you have no getting up running to him.
"w-wait!"
he looks back at you and then you're suddenly staring at each other like strangers.
"you want me to tell you what the heck's happening, right?"
out of breath and words from just running after him, all you manage to do is nod.
"it's a bit complicated, but to put it frankly- you're dead. we're both dead, actually. but, there's still one thing left for us to do. even i don't know what is it, but- as long as we don't do it, we're stuck here."
you nod slowly, slowly comprehending what he had just said.
"you know what we are? we're like those people who just mysteriously disappear. come to think of it, a lot of those people are like us, too. get what i mean?" he gives a refreshing smile, a smile you wouldn't normally see at times like these. he walks forward, instinctively you follow him.
"um- who are you?" you ask. and you mean it. because of genuine curiosity and the dependence you feel for him.
he stops walking again to look back at you, and you wonder if people can see you two- dead people.
"i'm haruma. i just died four days ago. if you read the newspaper, i'm that guy who vanished after that cross-country accident in kanagawa. i wasn't a part of those guys riding around those cars, but i was a student walking on the way to school. one car hit me and then i fell into the river and probably washed up somewhere. all i know is- maybe i died after losing consciousness after being hit by that car… or maybe i died right away? i can't really remember." he's saying this while laughing, like he's telling a joke. you can't understand why, but maybe that was how he was.
"oh, and you are? what's your name?"
"i'm takaki." you say.
"hey, takaki." he slings his arm over your shoulder and gives an interested look. "that was pretty interesting back there! i was actually just passing by when i saw you in that alley being threatened by that scary guy. what'd you do?"
"i saw.. some guys gambling and suitcases full of money. that scary guy was the boss' cousin. the boss owns the restaurant i was working at. i think he didn't know his cousin killed me, and i don't think he'll care when he finds out."
haruma's hold on you loosens a bit when he suddenly stops walking. you look up and see two cars in front of you.
"it's them. those cars. they're the ones who-"
turns out, that one thing you had to do, you had to do it with him.
--
sitting on the front stairs leading to the restaurant, you learn that the ones who had killed haruma were the same guys you saw gambling a while ago.
"is it okay for us to sit here? won't they see us?" you ask, haruma lifts one eyebrow then chuckles.
"haven't you realized that four people have already passed by us this past minute?" haruma points out, waving his hand back and forth the railings.
oh.
"so, what's your plan?" you ask him. his grin loses its touch and his head falls. "i don't really know.. to tell you the truth- i'm actually pretty scared." he rubs his hands together when a cold breeze passes through, it's weird, you think, weird that you can still experience cold and feel scared.
"scared? don't you feel mad?"
"how about you? don't you feel scared?"
you tear your eyes away from him and stare at the flickering lights of the convenience store across the street. "rather than being scared or angry- i feel strangely empty. like i don't know what to do anymore. like, is this what being dead really must be like? what is there left for me to do, anyway? when people can't really see me at all?"
the door opens behind you two and you both look back to see the man who had just killed you earlier with three other well-built men carrying the suitcases you saw.
haruma turns pale and you struggle to catch your breath.
but you can't.
because you're dead.
realizing this while staring up at them, you take a stand and hold out your hands- waiting for them to pass. haruma looks up at you expectantly and they pass through, talking in hushed tones. but when they do, they all stop and look back.
"whoa. did you- did you just-"
"i felt a cold spot there."
"yeah, wonder what it must be."
"scared the shit out of me." the guy who killed you shakes his head as he continues down the path to hold a door open for the three men. 'wow', you think, 'i got killed by a door opener.'
"the reality of it all is hard to absorb, right? you're still at that stage where you know you're dead- but you're not sure how to feel about it." haruma sighs, you hear him get up and then feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder. "but you still have a chance." he says, then suddenly he's running for the car, and you can't stop him.
he stops just when the car is inches in front of him.
you don't even have the time to shut your eyes.
and then you hear it.
haruma rolls off the road, the car swerves and crashes into a telephone post. a street light falls on top of the hood and the engine bursts, the car horn blares and you can imagine that door-opener with his head on the steering wheel, eyes staring off to open space.
haruma isn't moving, there are no sounds of life coming from the car, either.
but rather than being scared or angry, you still feel strangely empty.
--
then, you wake up.
"hey kid, you alright?" someone nudges your shoulder until you find the strength to open your eyes only to shut them back again because of the blinding light. your head hurts like shit.
"awww.. god."
"are you drunk, kid?"
you swing your right arm over your forehead and open your eyes just a little bit to see that it was a garbage collector who had woken you up. you groan as you lift a hand up, he takes it and helps you up. your head hurts so bad, you can't help but fall backwards, the garbage collector catching you just in time.
"what's your name kid?"
you don't remember anything.
HEADLINE NEWS: YAKUZA BOSS AND THREE HENCHMEN DIE IN A MYSTERIOUS CAR CRASH
SHINJUKU, TOKYO -- At around 2:30 a.m. Tokyo Eagles Yakuza Leader Managawa Toshiro and three unidentified henchmen, died in a car crash with no-
the news you hear on tv makes no sense, too.