Loose ends part 2

[catskilt]

5. Tegoshi Yuya

The first time Ryo meets Tegoshi Yuya, he's 8 years old and running barefoot through the park, playing tag with a friend.

It isn't something that would normally catch Ryo's attention, really, since kids running around playing games and doing other kid-type things isn't really that unusual. It doesn't even really phase him that the first kid he sees is a ghost; living or dead, kids are kids, and tend to act like it.

The thing that makes it notable is the fact that the dead boy's friend is very much alive, and doesn't seem phased by the fact that his friend isn't. Ryo watches as the living boy tags his friend and doesn't even flinch when his hand passes through him like so much air.

Ryo doesn't realize that he's staring until the living boy stops and waves at him and gives him a crooked smile. Ryo waves back out of reflex and is only slightly horrified when both boys come running over.

"Hey, what's your name?" The live kid asks, cocking his head to the side as he stares up at him.

"Nishikido Ryo."

"Ryo-tan," the living kid repeats and breaks out into a grin. "I'm Yuya, and this is Ryuu-chan."

The dead kid--Ryuu-chan-- gives a shy wave.

"So, you wanna play with us?"

Ryo stares down at the kid and shakes his head, frowning a little. "No... I have somewhere to be." He doesn't, but the kid doesn't need to know that. It's nicer than telling him that the thought of playing tag with him and his little ghost friend is a little creepy, at least.

"Oh. Well, you should come back sometime, then," Yuya says, smiling at Ryo one last time before he runs off into the park, Ryuuchan chasing at his heels.

Ryo watches them for a long moment before shaking his head and walking away. Weird kid.

The next time Ryo meets Yuya, Yuya is twelve years old and has blood all over the shirt of his school uniform.

Ryo hears the sniffling before he actually sees him, huddled against the alley wall, looking small and insignificant and unhappy.

Unhappiness and tears aren't really something that Ryo's unused to seeing-- he spends the majority of his time hanging out with dead people and Nino (who has the ability to cause Ryo a lot of unhappiness), after all. He's not even unused to unhappiness among the living. Life can be kind of shitty, afterall.

Something about the way the kid is crying into his sleeve and obviously trying very hard not to be heard gets to him, though. He huffs and berates himself for getting too soft even as he slips into the alley and stops in front of the kid, leaning down to offer him his handkerchief. "Hey, kid, you probably shouldn't cry here."

"Go away," the kid mumbles, burying his face further into his arm. "Or I'll scream 'pervert'."

Ryo scowls and stuffs his handkerchief back into his pocket, remembering why he usually doesn't bother with this sort of thing. People are, in general, ungrateful bastards. He stands and is about to walk away when he notices the kid peeking up at him over the top of his sleeve, his eyes red and swollen and looking a lot like the puppy that used to follow him and his brothers around when they were kids, begging for food.

"Sorry." The kid lifts his face finally and Ryo sees the blood on his chin and the way his nose is still bleeding sluggishly. Someone must have popped him a good one. "I didn't realize you were dead."

Ryo blinks and tries not to let the surprise show on his face. He covers it by digging the handkerchief out of his pocket and holding it out in offering. "Dead? You feeling alright, kid? You must have gotten hit pretty hard if you think you're seeing ghosts."

The kid just rolls his eyes and gives Ryo A Look as he takes the handkerchief from him and holds it against his nose. "You're not a ghost, you're just dead. And don't call me 'kid'."

Ryo stares, not quite sure what to say to that. He doesn't have much experience with living people knowing what he is; generally people who do are seen as a threat to themselves and society and are carted off somewhere to "keep them safe." The ones that have managed to avoid that fate aren't usually so nonchalant about it, for fear of joining them. "You shouldn't say stuff like that where people can hear."

"I know," the kid sighs and pulls the handkerchief away, examining it before wadding it up into a tighter ball and pressing it back against his nose. "What are you, anyway? You're not a ghost."

"I don't know," Ryo answers honestly, deciding that it's easier than lying to him. He could offer one of the names that he's heard thrown around over the years, but none of them really apply. "Just dead, I guess."

The kid nods, face thoughtful as he pulls the handkerchief away to re-examine it. "What's it like?"

Ryo shrugs. "The same as anything else, I guess. It just is."

"Here." The kid offers the bloody handkerchief back to him, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

"You keep it." Ryo shakes his head, not really relishing the thought of stuffing it back into his pocket like that. He clears his throat, intending to make some excuse so he can leave, but his tongue doesn't seem to agree with his brain that this is the best course of action. "You wanna go get some ice cream or something?"

"Sure," the kid says, giving Ryo a tenative smile.

Ryo smiles back and is glad that no one's there to see what a pushover he's become. "Clean your face off first, though. I don't want people to think I've been smacking you around."

The kid laughs and starts to wipe at his face with the nearly-ruined handkerchief. It takes a few minutes but he manages to get most of the blood off and stands, looking to Ryo for approval.

Ryo frowns at the bruise he can see rising along the kid's nose and against one cheek and at the blood drying onto his school shirt. He takes off his jacket and hands it to him, with a nod. "Good enough. Put this on so people don't see your shirt."

"Thanks, Ryo." The kid takes the jacket with a grateful look, and Ryo's so busy feeling proud of himself that he doesn't even stop to wonder how the kid knew his name until much later.

The last time Ryo meets Tegoshi Yuya, Yuya is twenty-two years old and fresh out of college.

They're seated at one of the seldom-used picnic tables in the park, an ice cream sundae that is more sprinkles and chocolate syrup than ice cream on the table between them. There are two spoons, but Yuya is doing most (well, all) of the eating. He somehow manages to keep up a steady stream of chatter between mouthfuls, something about him that's never ceased to amaze Ryo. Ryo listens and responds when appropriate, letting himself just enjoy the sound of the other's voice.

"I've decided... I'm going to Sweden."

"Sweden?" Ryo asks, not sure why he feels suddenly like panicking. "What are you going to do in Sweden?"

"I got a job at a ski resort. My uncle has a friend that works there and they need help with all the Japanese tourists they get."

Ryo frowns at Yuya and feels a bit like a bastard when the other's smile falters. "And you can't do that in Japan?"

Yuya puts his spoon down and shakes his head, his eyes uncertain as they meet Ryo's. It reminds Ryo that the awkward kid Ryo met so many years ago is still in there somewhere, even if Yuya would have everyone believe otherwise. "You don't want me to go?"

"No... I just don't know why it has to be Sweden."

"I want to see the world before I die."

Ryo opens his mouth to argue that Yuya is only twenty-two and has his whole life ahead of him to see the world but cuts himself off before he can start. It's stupid to argue something that they both know might not be true. "When do you leave?"

"Next Friday." Yuya says, his expression guilty. "I wasn't sure how to tell you before this."

Ryo bites back his retort and just nods, slowly.

The silence that stretches between them is an uncomfortable one, and Ryo is just getting ready to find an excuse to take his leave when he feels Yuya turn his hand over and press something into his palm. He frowns as Yuya pulls his hand away, leaving a small, silver key behind.

"It's for your post office box," Yuya explains before Ryo has a chance to ask. "It's at the post office on the corner near your apartment. It's paid up for a year, so you don't owe anything for it. The number's right on the key, so it should be easy to find."

"A post office box?"

Yuya shrugs and bites at his bottom lip in that nervous way that he has. "Your apartment doesn't have one and I want to send you a post card."

Ryo turns the key over in his hand slowly and reads the number, his throat feeling suspiciously tight. "I guess this means I'll need your address in Sweden so I can send you postcards, too."

The smile that Yuya gives him somehow makes ignoring the sudden lump in his throat worth it.

They (well, Yuya, mostly) make small talk for bit longer before they say their goodbyes, Yuya's eyes looking suspiciously bright as he gives Ryo an awkward hug. "I'll come back and see you again," he promises.

"You know where to find me." Ryo says and tightens his arms around him.

Ryo doesn't really hold it against him when that visit never happens, because even if he never sees Yuya again, every month, like clockwork, there's a post card waiting for him.

6. Masuda Takahisa

The first thing that Ryo notices about Masuda Takahisa is the pair of lime green, rainbow starred shorts that he's wearing.

They're kind of hard to miss, really, considering that almost everyone else on the train is wearing either a school uniform or a business suit, leaving the crowd as a whole colored an unadventurous blend of tan, black and grey. The drabness of their fellow riders aside, Masuda's shorts are also the brightest thing that he's ever seen anyone wear, either alive or dead. So bright, in fact, that he suspects if he closed his eyes he'd still be able to see them shining through his eyelids in all their neon colored glory.

Ghosts tend to "wear" the clothes that they died it; Ryo can't help but wonder what, exactly, this one was doing when he died. The only possibilities that come to mind are running away to join the circus or on his way to a rave specifically for the fashion-impaired.

Ryo watches him silently as the train speeds down the track, the pair of bright blue headphones perched on his head somehow managing to compliment the monstrosity of an outfit when, by all rights, they should probably clash. He stands out more than most ghosts do, a point of brightness in the sea of dull colors and conversations, oblivious to the people on the train around him as he bobs his head to music that only he can hear, his eyes shut tight and his mouth hitched up on one side in the beginnings of a smile.

His presence is so strong that Ryo wonders how no one notices him. The train is crowded with students heading home from cram school and office workers coming home after a few extra hours behind their desks, but no one seems to notice the stretch of seat where the ghost is sitting, eventhough it should by all rights look empty to them. Instead they stand around and go about their boring conversations, bumping elbows and knees and muttering insincere apologies when the train rounds a particularly sharp curve or has a less than smooth stop at a station instead of taking the available seat.

Ryo relaxes back into his seat and ignores them in favor of watching the ghost as the train moves up and down the track until it pulls into his stop for the last time that night and Ryo leaves, leaving the ghost behind, the stars from his shorts shining brightly in the grey interior of the train.

The second thing that Ryo notices about Masuda Takahisa is his smile.

This time, Masuda is sitting on a bench in Shinagawa Station, the headphones and half-smile still in place as he watches the crowds rushing back and forth on their way to work or school or where ever else it is they go to start their day. The lime green shorts are still there, but they somehow seem less intense today, like the interior of the train trapped all their color in and magnified it ten fold and the open air of the station finally allows them room to breathe.

Ryo leans against a pillar and watches Masuda for awhile, the concrete cool against his back as he takes a moment to get a better look at the other. By all rights, he should look ridiculous. Between the eye burning clothing, the junior high school hair cut, and the slight up turn of his nose he reminds Ryo a bit of a character from one of those children's sing-along shows. The overall effect is something so cute that it almost borders on disgusting.

Despite this, though, Ryo finds he can't look away. Maybe it's the contradiction between the wildness of his clothes and the dullness of his hair, or the fact that the other looks so content and thoughtful just sitting there watching people pass, or just the way he taps his foot against the pavement, working out a beat to a song that Ryo can't hear that makes it impossible to look away. In the end he supposes it doesn't matter why he's standing there watching his latest ghost a bit creepily instead of going up to talk to him, so much as that he is standing there watching him.

The morning rush has already passed when Masuda finally stands and stretches, dips his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and steps up to the yellow stripe marking the edge of the platform. He leans forward and peers down the tracks and, apparently satisfied with what he sees, leans back and waits.

Ryo waits until the next train stops and Masuda climbs aboard before following him, slipping through the crowd easily and finding a seat that gives a good view of the other.

Ryo watches, waits for the other to get up and get off at one of the stations they pass, but Masuda just sits there listening to his music, occassionally tapping his foot in time or singing softly to himself. Before Ryo knows it, the train's passed Shinagawa station by once, twice over and Ryo finds himself relaxing, lulled by the soft rocking of the train beneath him and the movement of Masuda's lips.

The first streetlights are just starting to flicker on across the city when Masuda stands, pushes his headphones down to rest around his neck and stretches his arms above his head. Ryo's too caught up in watching him to remember not to stare. It's only when Masuda's eyes meet his and he offers Ryo a smile that lights up the interior of the train that Ryo remembers not to be so blatant, but by that time it's too late and all he can do is smile back in answer, shy and awkward but sincere.

Ryo is still watching as the train stops and Masuda slips through the open doors back into Shinagawa Station, leaving Ryo staring out the window at him as the train pulls away.

The third thing that Ryo notices about Masuda is that Masuda watches Ryo, too.

It's never quite as blatantly as Ryo watches him, but every so often when Ryo takes his seat or looks away from the window their eyes will meet. Sometimes Ryo looks away first, and sometimes Masuda does, but never before they share a shy smile that leaves Ryo feeling warm all over.

Ryo doesn't worry as much about hiding his own stares after that.

There are a lot of things that Ryo notices about Masuda after that: the richness of his laugh, the tiny crease he gets between his eyes when he's thinking, the way he always chooses a seat with an empty space across from it (for him, Ryo likes to imagine), the dimple in his right cheek when he smiles at Ryo every night as he leaves.

Ryo's not sure why he keeps dragging things out, spending all of his time watching Masuda instead of talking to him and getting to know him like he should be. Something about riding the train in silence, watching the other and the passing scenery and the other passengers is oddly comforting, though. He doesn't really want to give it up, so he instead sits and watches and shares the occassional smile, telling himself that there's no rush.

Ryo knows that something's different as soon as he gets to the station that day and finds Masuda leaning against one of the pillars, his headphones resting around his neck as his eyes scan the crowd. He almost misses him at first, his eyes automatically going to the bench where Masuda sits every morning, watching the crowds until he gets up at exactly 10:18 and hops the train, Ryo close at his heels.

Ryo stops and frowns, fighting back a surge of uneasiness as he scans the crowd. Masuda's lime green shorts save him too much worry, though, making him easy to pick out from the crowd.

"Hey." Masuda's voice is deeper than Ryo would have imagined, given the roundness of his face and the brightness of his smile. It suits him, though, another contradictory piece of him that shouldn't quite fit into the whole but does, making the whole better for its presence.

"Hey." Ryo stops a polite distance away and meets Masuda's eyes, surprised by the warmth he finds there.

"You've been following me."

"Yeah." Ryo shrugs, sees no sense in hiding it. It earns him a smile and a low chuckle, so he guesses it was the right answer to give.

"I thought we could ride the train together today."

"Sure."

They don't really do a lot of talking, but Ryo enjoys the comfortable silence between them, the solidarity of two passengers riding the same train round and round with no particular destination in mind. They're sitting close together on their seats, thighs and elbows brushing as they watch the crowds inside and the city outside the window and steal glances at each other from the corners of their eyes.

Sometime before the afternoon rush, when the crowds don't have the suffocating press that they take on later in the day, Masuda slips his headphones on and leans in until his head bumps gently against Ryo's. A second later Ryo hears music start to play, something with heavy synth and strange vocals. Ryo smiles as he sees Masuda's lips start to move out of the corner of his eye and he hears him sing along, low and breathless.

They ride like that for hours, round and round the city, the crowds coming and going while they stay seated, watching it all pass by.

Ryo closes his eyes at one point and only remembers to open them again hours later when the music stops and he feels Masuda's head move away from his.

"What's your name?"

"Ryo. Nishikido Ryo."

Masuda nods, his expression thoughtful. "Thanks for riding with me today, Nishikido-kun."

"You're welcome--"

"Masuda Takahisa. Or just Massu. That's what my friends call me."

"Massu."

Massu's smile is so bright that it's almost hard to look at, but Ryo finds that he can't make himself look away. Ryo hears the tinny voice of the announcer calling for the last stop at Shinagawa through the overhead speakers and fights off disappointment.

"Same time and place tomorrow?"

Ryo thinks he sounds appropriately non-chalant, which is why he's so shocked to see the sadness creep into Masuda's smile as he shakes his head 'no'.

"I don't think I'll be on the train anymore." He meets Ryo's eyes then, and Ryo knows that it's true, knows that Masuda isn't one of those ghosts that has to hear that its dead in order to move on.

"I guess I won't be either, then."

Masuda laughs softly and leans forward, his lips brushing against Ryo's in a quick kiss as the train pulls up to Shinagawa Station for the last time that evening. Ryo reaches up as Masuda pulls away, his finger tracing the other's dimple lightly and he finds himself reflecting Masuda's smile back at him. All around them passengers rush to gather their belongings and get to the door. Masuda just leans into Ryo's touch briefly before he stands slowly and makes his way to the door.

The last thing that Ryo notices about Masuda Takahisa is the way he waves goodbye, his bright smile following Ryo as the train pulls away from the platform to finish its circuit around the city.

7. Kusano Hironori

Kusano Hironori is entirely Nino's fault.

Well, not entirely. Ryo is sure that his parents were lovely people and deserve a lot of the credit, being the ones who brought him into the world and raised him.

Nino, however, is entirely to blame for Kusano becoming a part of Ryo's life and that's all that matters to Ryo. Nino is the one who texts Ryo to tell him to go to Yokohama on the cell phone that he wouldn't even have had if Nino hadn't insisted he needed it to keep in touch.

Ryo grumbles and calls the other back, writing his evening off as a waste.

"You could have just texted me back," Nino says when he answers, not even bothering with a greeting or token niceties.

"What the hell, Nino. I'm busy. Why can't you go to Yokohama?"

"Because this one's yours." Nino's voice takes on that cryptic tone that says he knows more than he's telling and Ryo fights the urge to try to pry it out of him, knowing that it will just be an exercise in futility.

Ryo can hear the music coming off the speakers of Nino's tv through the phone and knows that Nino can't be that busy if he has time to sit around and play video games. "Well, can it wait? I'm still finishing up with Yoshizawa-san."

"She'll still be there when you get back. This one is more time sensitive," Nino answers and Ryo can tell by the way that he says it that he's not going to win this argument.

"Fine. Where in Yokohama do I need to be?"

If there's one thing that Ryo's learned, it's that the world runs in cycles: people are born, people die; spring turns to summer and summer to fall; rain falls and then the wind blows the clouds away. He supposes that the living don't usually notice it, too busy with the business of living to sit back and filter through the memories and events of their life to pick out patterns that, while interesting, are usually too mundane to be useful. Luckily (or not, depending on how you look at it), being dead gives you all the time in the world to think useless thoughts and waste time remembering the past.

Ryo can't help but think that even if he were still alive he'd have to be pretty dense to miss the significance of this, though.

When he gets to where he needs to be in Yokohama, the police are still trying to calm the frantic driver of the car that hit Kusano and the paramedics are still trying to do CPR on his broken body. It's pretty obvious that it's a lost cause, the blood covering his torn clothes and the pavement too much for one person to lose, but they keep working anyway, pouring everything they have into the effort. Ryo can't really blame them for trying. He wouldn't, personally, but he likes to think that being dead gives you some perspective.

He's a little confused as to why he is here watching this, though, considering ghosts never appear until at least a day or so after someone dies. He watches from the sidelines, silent and unseen, until the paramedics give up and is just getting ready to call Nino to bitch him out when he sees a boy sitting just off to the side of all of the commotion, hugging his knees and looking slightly stunned. Ryo takes a closer look and realizes that he's wearing the same dark blue uniform that the paramedics are currently covering with a sheet a few feet away.

Cursing softly under his breath, he moves to sit beside him. "Hey."

"Hey," the kid answers back, his voice barely audible over the back and forth between the paramedics as they step aside, letting the police take over now that it's clear there's nothing else that they can do.

Ryo's silent for a moment, struggling for something to say. He hates Nino even more for sending him here now and making him do this.

"Am I dead?" The kid asks, his face entirely too serious for someone his age when he turns to meet Ryo's eyes.

"Yeah," Ryo answers, nodding as he tries to remember what Nino had said to him when he was the one in Kusano's position. Even when he remembers it doesn't seem particularly helpful, though.

"Dead... like a ghost?"

Ryo shakes his head and thinks that at least Nino had been helpful in this area. "No, not a ghost. Just dead... there's no real word for it."

"Oh." The kid takes a deep breath and turns, watching as the police roll out bright yellow caution tape and wave away the few on-lookers gathered around the edges of the scene. "Are you dead, too?"

"Yeah."

"And you came here for me?"

Ryo nods, glad the kid is answering his own questions so he doesn't have to think of a way to do so himself. "You can come home with me."

"What about my family?"

"They're still alive."

"And I'm not."

"No," Ryo says, giving the kid a sympathetic look. He gives it a minute to all sink in before he speaks again. "It's not that bad, though... being dead."

"But I'm alone now."

"No," Ryo shakes his head and reaches out to squeeze the kid's shoulder, knowing it's a lame gesture but wanting to offer what little comfort he can. "It may seem that way now but you won't be. Trust me."

The kid looks skeptical but is there beside him when Ryo boards the train back home an hour later.