Ghost
Ghost
Chapter1/?
1,2,3
Reita/Ruki
angst
Rated PG
They paid him no attention, giving nothing more than a sidelong glance as they passed by. To them, he was a ghost.
-
He was nothing, his existence futile to those who surrounded him. They paid him no attention, giving nothing more than a sidelong glance as they passed by. To them, he was a ghost. Nothing but a strange looking nobody, sitting restlessly on the street.
His face was swollen, his eyes red. They burned from the mist lining his lids. He blinked the moisture away and looked down, hiding his face from the strangers. Though he meant nothing to them, he didn’t wish to be seen. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to disappear completely, for his body to just dissolve.
He had nowhere to go, no one to run to. Those that were supposed to love him turned him out, dubbing him a disgrace to their name. He had been cast out and tossed aside without a second thought.
Nothing.
Slender fingers reached into the pocket of his heavy flannel, pulling out a single cigarette. He placed it to his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply, letting the cancer fill his lungs. A thick haze curled it’s way around his form and he closed his eyes, sighing. The smoke slithered down, mingling with the pain in his chest. He exhaled, letting it all out, feeling some of the heaviness leave him.
He began walking, avoiding the people in the crowd. Eyes to the ground, he made his way to a park and went to his place. His safe haven.
A bridge, hidden away from the rest of the area, surrounded by willows. He sat down, letting his legs dangle over the edge, hands gripping at the wooden railing. His hues went down to the water and he stared at his reflection, illuminated by the moon.
His pale form started back at him. He saw the bruise beginning to form, splotching his usually milky cheeks with an ugly hue of purple. The tears began to flow again, and this time, he didn’t hold them back. Now that he was in his place, there was no one to judge him.
With his cigarette now burnt to the butt, he flicked it into the water and pulled on his headphones, turning the music player all the way up. He closed his lids, letting himself be carried away by the harsh melodies, singing softly along to the words that seemed to describe his feelings perfectly.
The emotions swelled in his chest, burning his insides. The tears were falling freely now, sobs coating the words as he sang along, louder now.
A feather light touch startled him and he snapped his gaze behind him. He jerked the headphones from his head and quickly wiped the tears away.
Behind him was a boy who looked to be his age. The stranger gazed down at him, concern in his eyes.
“I don’t mean to intrude.. But are you alright?” he asked, smiling softly.
The ghost looked up, not sure what to say. He bit at his swollen lip and played with the hem of his shirt, staying silent.
“Ah, you aren’t. I can see that. But, it’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. I’ll just sit here with you, so you aren’t alone.” The stranger sat down beside the other and looked at him. “I’m Akira,” he said, still smiling.
“Um, Takanori,” he said softly before looking back down to the water. The wind had rustled the trees, leaves landly softly on the surface. The ripples distorted his reflection and he cocked his head, wondering if that was how he looked through the eyes of others. It was certainly how they treated him. A monster, someone that didn’t belong in their world.
“Well, Takanori, it is very nice to meet you. Though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”
The stranger took the headphones from around Takanori’s neck, holding them up to his ear.
“Ah, I like this band too. They’re very good.”
The ghost only nodded, his gaze still bearing down at his reflection. He wasn’t sure why this stranger was taking the time to talk to him, and he found it quite odd. Most people took one look at his dyed hair and makeup and turned away in disgust. Though it hurt him, he didn’t want to change. He was only good at being himself, so that’s what he did.
“Your lip.. And your cheek.. They don’t look so well,” said the stranger lightly. “You should probably put some ice on them.”
Takanori only shook his head in response. He knew he looked like hell, but it didn’t matter. The pain on the inside was much worse. His lip quivered as images from earlier flooded his mind. His father screaming, his mother crying. The stinging sensation that burned his skin when his father’s fist made contact.
He chewed on his lip and took a deep breath in, not wanting to cry in front of the other.
The stranger moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s alright,” he said softly. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but if you need to talk, I’m here.”
The ghost shook his head, still not willing to talk about it.
“Alright. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine too,” the other said lightly, letting a toothy grin spread across his features. When he smiled, the air around them seemed lighter for some reason. Takanori stared for a moment, then looked away quickly.
Akira pulled the cigarette from his lips and took a hit before giving it back. “These help though, don’t they?”
The ghost nodded and put his headphones back to his ears, turning down the volume, just enough to be able to hear the other if he spoke.
The stranger stayed silent, but moved closer and leaned in to hear the music.
“If you need anything, you have a friend,” he whispered, knowing he wouldn’t be heard.
A sort of peace had overcome the ghost and he sighed, letting everything escape him with that one breath. If only for that moment, he wanted to forget everything else. Having the other near him was a comfort. Though he didn’t understand, he was grateful.
No more words were spoken. The only sounds were the music coming from the headphones. There they sat, lost in their own little world, hidden away from all the troubles of the world. The stranger and the ghost.
Chapter1/?
1,2,3
Reita/Ruki
angst
Rated PG
They paid him no attention, giving nothing more than a sidelong glance as they passed by. To them, he was a ghost.
-
He was nothing, his existence futile to those who surrounded him. They paid him no attention, giving nothing more than a sidelong glance as they passed by. To them, he was a ghost. Nothing but a strange looking nobody, sitting restlessly on the street.
His face was swollen, his eyes red. They burned from the mist lining his lids. He blinked the moisture away and looked down, hiding his face from the strangers. Though he meant nothing to them, he didn’t wish to be seen. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to disappear completely, for his body to just dissolve.
He had nowhere to go, no one to run to. Those that were supposed to love him turned him out, dubbing him a disgrace to their name. He had been cast out and tossed aside without a second thought.
Nothing.
Slender fingers reached into the pocket of his heavy flannel, pulling out a single cigarette. He placed it to his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply, letting the cancer fill his lungs. A thick haze curled it’s way around his form and he closed his eyes, sighing. The smoke slithered down, mingling with the pain in his chest. He exhaled, letting it all out, feeling some of the heaviness leave him.
He began walking, avoiding the people in the crowd. Eyes to the ground, he made his way to a park and went to his place. His safe haven.
A bridge, hidden away from the rest of the area, surrounded by willows. He sat down, letting his legs dangle over the edge, hands gripping at the wooden railing. His hues went down to the water and he stared at his reflection, illuminated by the moon.
His pale form started back at him. He saw the bruise beginning to form, splotching his usually milky cheeks with an ugly hue of purple. The tears began to flow again, and this time, he didn’t hold them back. Now that he was in his place, there was no one to judge him.
With his cigarette now burnt to the butt, he flicked it into the water and pulled on his headphones, turning the music player all the way up. He closed his lids, letting himself be carried away by the harsh melodies, singing softly along to the words that seemed to describe his feelings perfectly.
The emotions swelled in his chest, burning his insides. The tears were falling freely now, sobs coating the words as he sang along, louder now.
A feather light touch startled him and he snapped his gaze behind him. He jerked the headphones from his head and quickly wiped the tears away.
Behind him was a boy who looked to be his age. The stranger gazed down at him, concern in his eyes.
“I don’t mean to intrude.. But are you alright?” he asked, smiling softly.
The ghost looked up, not sure what to say. He bit at his swollen lip and played with the hem of his shirt, staying silent.
“Ah, you aren’t. I can see that. But, it’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. I’ll just sit here with you, so you aren’t alone.” The stranger sat down beside the other and looked at him. “I’m Akira,” he said, still smiling.
“Um, Takanori,” he said softly before looking back down to the water. The wind had rustled the trees, leaves landly softly on the surface. The ripples distorted his reflection and he cocked his head, wondering if that was how he looked through the eyes of others. It was certainly how they treated him. A monster, someone that didn’t belong in their world.
“Well, Takanori, it is very nice to meet you. Though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”
The stranger took the headphones from around Takanori’s neck, holding them up to his ear.
“Ah, I like this band too. They’re very good.”
The ghost only nodded, his gaze still bearing down at his reflection. He wasn’t sure why this stranger was taking the time to talk to him, and he found it quite odd. Most people took one look at his dyed hair and makeup and turned away in disgust. Though it hurt him, he didn’t want to change. He was only good at being himself, so that’s what he did.
“Your lip.. And your cheek.. They don’t look so well,” said the stranger lightly. “You should probably put some ice on them.”
Takanori only shook his head in response. He knew he looked like hell, but it didn’t matter. The pain on the inside was much worse. His lip quivered as images from earlier flooded his mind. His father screaming, his mother crying. The stinging sensation that burned his skin when his father’s fist made contact.
He chewed on his lip and took a deep breath in, not wanting to cry in front of the other.
The stranger moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s alright,” he said softly. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but if you need to talk, I’m here.”
The ghost shook his head, still not willing to talk about it.
“Alright. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine too,” the other said lightly, letting a toothy grin spread across his features. When he smiled, the air around them seemed lighter for some reason. Takanori stared for a moment, then looked away quickly.
Akira pulled the cigarette from his lips and took a hit before giving it back. “These help though, don’t they?”
The ghost nodded and put his headphones back to his ears, turning down the volume, just enough to be able to hear the other if he spoke.
The stranger stayed silent, but moved closer and leaned in to hear the music.
“If you need anything, you have a friend,” he whispered, knowing he wouldn’t be heard.
A sort of peace had overcome the ghost and he sighed, letting everything escape him with that one breath. If only for that moment, he wanted to forget everything else. Having the other near him was a comfort. Though he didn’t understand, he was grateful.
No more words were spoken. The only sounds were the music coming from the headphones. There they sat, lost in their own little world, hidden away from all the troubles of the world. The stranger and the ghost.