[NaNo 2012] Trigger || Chapter 2
Title: Trigger
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yabu Kouta-centered, appearances by many
Chapter wordcount: 2,194
NaNo wordcount: 4310
Synopsis:
When someone dies they always leave something behind in their wake. Usually this is something material like money, jewelry or clothes. Other times they leave behind precious memories, feelings and a special smile.
But very rarely they leave behind something different, a special kind of power, only meant for those strong enough to handle it. A Trigger.
After his grandfather's dies in a horrible fire, Kouta finds himself able to communicate with those from the other side. Being a young orphan and from that moment on homeless, he uses his gift to survive, asking food and shelter in exchange of messages from those who already passed on. But after he gets involved in a fight between a spirit looking for his body and a demon, Kouta finds his live to take a whole different turn.
It hadn’t been the first time he saw a ghost, but it most certainly was the first time he saw the ghost of a stranger he had bumped into earlier that day. A stranger that had sent strange fearful chills over his spine and left him momentarily paralyzed on the spot. In a reflex, a moment of panic, Kouta grabs a candle from the small table next to his door and lights it. He points the candle towards the figure on the couch and waves it around in small circles. The man stares back at him with a genuine interest and maybe slight humor, though Kouta barely cares less. A part of him wants to walk over to his couch and shoo the unknown person away. His body however, overtaken by fear that does not seem to be caused by the ghost but more the appearance he takes after, remains frozen on the spot.
He scrapes his throat and pushes out a bit of air before he actually manages to speak a few words. “Be gone,” he growls, voice low and -as far as he is considered-intimidating. Much like Kouta, the other male remains in his spot. He raises an unimpressed brow at Kouta’s attempt to ban him out and Kouta can swear he sees the light traces of a smirk appear on his young face.
Kouta tries to relax, tries not to relive the blazing cold that overtook him earlier that day and tells himself to think reasonably. His fingers tremble, still holding the candle as if it will protect him if the disembodied figure attempts to attack him. His eyes carefully trail along the other’s features, light and youthful. The contrast with the physical appearance he bumped into is so big that for a moment he wonders whether it all just wasn’t a dream or the mindplay of a bored deceased person. He shifts, his gaze still fixed on the man on his couch and recalls the brief power force that hit him and then shakes his head. That wasn’t ordinary play with his mind. It definitely had been real.
“So…” The ghost begins and in a reflex Kouta tosses the still burning candle towards his head. Deep in thoughts he hadn’t expected the other to speak so suddenly and out of sheer panic the candle was the first thing he could fling at the other. The spirit squeaks in surprise more than in fear-ghosts cannot be hit by material objects after all-and watches in light amusement how Kouta grabs a vase with almost withered flowers and saves the small apartment from burning down, or at least from burning a bit.
Kouta however, is less amused. He can feel his heart thumping in his chest and by the thought of another fire caused by him is enough to drive him up the wall. He sighs and eyes the ghost that looks back and sends him a questioning gesture. Would it be okay for him to talk?
Kouta frowns, lips pulled into a thin line as the fear fades from his system. His body can move on his own again and he flexes his fingers as he sits down on a chair near his couch. He eyes the young spirit once more, a lot more at ease than a few seconds before and finally manages to speak again, leaving the heavy voice from earlier behind.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”
“Oh hey, you found your voice back,” the spirit grins mockingly. His eyes brim with amusement as a small pout forms itself on Kouta’s lips. Kouta feels the slight need of explaining himself but decides against it. He decides to hear the boy out first before trying to regain his manliness. The disembodied man doesn’t continue his mockery there and from one second to another his eyes return to being dark and serious. “My name is Takaki Yuya and I have come to search for your help.”
Kouta blinks, looks around as if there is someone else in the room with him Yuya could have addressed and then looks back. There is a light frown playing on his face as he sinks back into his chair and once more takes his time to inspect this Takaki Yuya person.
Now the initial feelings of shock have faded and the fear that hazed his mind pulled away all he sees is a very tired looking young soul. The light brown hair that frames his gentle features looks dull and washed out. The bags underneath the boy’s eyes have bags and despite seemingly being around the same age as Kouta, the early signs of aging show on his face.
Kouta has let himself in with several deceased over the past years and if there was one thing that they taught him it was that their visual state reflected how they felt and this young man obviously felt worn out and tired.
Kouta felt bad for him but shook his head in dismay. He had promised his grandfather to build up a proper existence, to not let dead take over his life like it had done for the past nine years. For some unknown reason Yuya had looked for his expertise in talking with the deceased and Kouta supposed it was because he wanted to reach one of his family members -maybe his evil, angry, still very much alive twin brother-but he couldn’t grant that request.
“I’m not sure what you want from me, but I can’t help you. I stopped being a medium between heaven and earth a few weeks ago,” he answers, lowering his gaze in order to avoid the other’s eyes.
“That’s-not what I came here for,” Yuya says, voice impatient and eyes extremely fixed on Kouta’s hands, “you’re Triggered. You can help me get my body back.”
“I am going to help you with what?” Kouta asks, his voice a little higher than usual. His eyes snap back to the ghost’s-or is he really?-face and he slightly awkwardly continues, “so… You’re not dead?”
A hollow laughter erupts from Yuya’s lips, low and everything but amused. “If only,” he bites back, raising his brow at Kouta who looks back, obviously oblivious and confused. Yuya purses his lips and watches Kouta move uncomfortably in his place, eyes darting through the room but never once glancing over at Yuya’s. He wonders whether he has picked the wrong one, fairly sure he sensed the right energy coming from his when he crashed into his material body. Once more, Yuya tries to measure the spiritual energy coming from Kouta but while he is able to find the Trigger, he has no idea how to pull it. That’s when it all falls together.
“Oh my god.”
“You can just call me Kouta.”
“Oh my God,” Yuya repeats again, shaking his head and mentally slapping himself, “I picked the wrong one. You’re not activated yet.”
Not sure what the sudden change of character is about, Kouta pouts. “You should go back to my home town, if you see those girls you’ll understand why I’m not activated yet.”
Yuya groans and rolls his eyes, “not activated and stupid. Great.”
Kouta’s confused pout changes into an annoyed frown as he eyes the undead spirit on his couch. A small part of him wishes to kick the man off the sofa and out of his house but a bigger part of his subconscious wishes to learn more about his lost body and the Trigger he keeps talking about. He leans on the armrest of his chair and eyes Yuya carefully. He puffs out a bit of air before finally breaking the silence.
“What happened to your body and how am I Triggered?”
Yuya bites on the inner side of his cheek, sighing deep and exhausted. When he went out to look for help, he had expected to stumble across a semi-experienced exorcist that would kick some demon ass, at least enough for Yuya to take possession over his own body again. Instead he stumbles upon a non-activated Trigger with an impressive aura.
He sighs once more and shrugs it off, deciding it probably could have been worse. Possibly. Technically speaking.
“I don’t know how you got Triggered, you tell me. Who died and what was your role in their death?” Yuya begins and he watches how all colors pull away from Kouta’s face. He decides not to wait for an answer, he’s not all that interested in it and a part of him just wants to continue his story and get the move on in hopes for coming across actual help.
“I am an exorcist and just like you, I lost someone very dear to me and that’s when I got Triggered. Let’s just keep it at the fact that I was good at what I did and that’s why some higher ranked demon has pushed me out of my body in hopes of controlling the powers that were once mine.” Yuya ends his story with a small nod and Kouta finds himself gaping at him for a good five seconds.
Hadn’t he been able to speak with the deceased for over nine years and hadn’t he felt the enormous force of pure hate earlier that day, Kouta would have sworn Yuya was a mere friction of his imagination, a result of his new surroundings and his lack of adaption. He nods slowly in response, “and now you want me to help you?”
“God no,” Yuya responds flatly, “I thought you were a lower ranked exorcist at the very least, a decent help. Right now you would do nothing but cause trouble for me and yourself.” Yuya got up, stretching his sore limbs -or something similar-and looked over to where Kouta is. “But thank you for listen-“
Before Yuya can finish his sentence a great force enters the house and flings itself around his throat. He stumbles backwards and Kouta watches with eyes the size of the moon how he struggles with an unseen force. A pat of him panics, another one tells him to calm down and do something about it. He contemplates about lighting another candle but when he hears Yuya’s muffled screams his body simply reacts on his own. He runs over to where Yuya is and with his bare hands he tries to pull away the invisible strength that has fixed itself on the spirit’s throat. With the same force at that Yuya flung to the other side of the room, Kouta now too feels his body getting smashed against one of his cabinets.
With a groan he opens his eyes an checks whether he is still able to move. He scrambles up and realizes soon enough the force barely cares about his presence, it’s Yuya he wants.
“Activate me!” he screams in utter desperation. He wants to help, refusing to see someone lose a fight of life and death in front of his eyes.
Yuya actually momentary manages to peel off the force and smack him against the wall. There is fear and doubt in his big brown eyes as he mutters out of breath, “I-I can’t, you have to do it yourself.” His eyes weaver from Kouta to the corner where the force is slowly building up again. “Think of the person you lost,” with those words he runs over to where Kouta is.
Kouta closes his eyes trying his hardest to think of his grandfather. “I-I can’t, I don’t feel anything changing.”
“Concentrate!” Yuya screeches, running past Kouta and ducking away from the force that throws Kouta down in the progress of missing Yuya.
Kouta doesn’t stand up and while the sounds of Yuya’s struggle keep echoing in his mind he tries to remember the day he came home and saw how the firemen tried to keep the fire in control.
“Come on!”
He vaguely remembers the colors red and orange, indulging everything he once loved in their flames.
His right hand starts tinting.
“Hurry, I can-I can’t take this much longer.”
The realization that he would never see his grandfather again.
He feels his fingers crumbling into a fist without ordering his body to do so.
“Please-“
He feels how the spiritual particles form something around his hand. When he finally dares to take a look, his hand is coughing bullets.
From that point on his body goes numb and his vision becomes black.
~*~
When he wakes up, his eyes remain closed.
“I hope you didn’t kill him, Yuya,” a voice unknown to him says, “it was very dangerous of you to activate him like that.”
He hears a small grumble and Yuya’s exhausted voice. “He wanted it himself.”
“He can hear you, you know,” a third voice chimes in and by then Kouta decides to open his eyes.
He blinks, he half expected a bright light, but instead the dim lights of fluorescent tubes greet him. He tried to scramble up, but a hand keeps him down and he can hear the smile in the man’s voice as he says, “hold your horses cowboy.”
“Where am I?”
“Ah,” the first voice smiles, “welcome to The Underground.”
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yabu Kouta-centered, appearances by many
Chapter wordcount: 2,194
NaNo wordcount: 4310
Synopsis:
When someone dies they always leave something behind in their wake. Usually this is something material like money, jewelry or clothes. Other times they leave behind precious memories, feelings and a special smile.
But very rarely they leave behind something different, a special kind of power, only meant for those strong enough to handle it. A Trigger.
After his grandfather's dies in a horrible fire, Kouta finds himself able to communicate with those from the other side. Being a young orphan and from that moment on homeless, he uses his gift to survive, asking food and shelter in exchange of messages from those who already passed on. But after he gets involved in a fight between a spirit looking for his body and a demon, Kouta finds his live to take a whole different turn.
It hadn’t been the first time he saw a ghost, but it most certainly was the first time he saw the ghost of a stranger he had bumped into earlier that day. A stranger that had sent strange fearful chills over his spine and left him momentarily paralyzed on the spot. In a reflex, a moment of panic, Kouta grabs a candle from the small table next to his door and lights it. He points the candle towards the figure on the couch and waves it around in small circles. The man stares back at him with a genuine interest and maybe slight humor, though Kouta barely cares less. A part of him wants to walk over to his couch and shoo the unknown person away. His body however, overtaken by fear that does not seem to be caused by the ghost but more the appearance he takes after, remains frozen on the spot.
He scrapes his throat and pushes out a bit of air before he actually manages to speak a few words. “Be gone,” he growls, voice low and -as far as he is considered-intimidating. Much like Kouta, the other male remains in his spot. He raises an unimpressed brow at Kouta’s attempt to ban him out and Kouta can swear he sees the light traces of a smirk appear on his young face.
Kouta tries to relax, tries not to relive the blazing cold that overtook him earlier that day and tells himself to think reasonably. His fingers tremble, still holding the candle as if it will protect him if the disembodied figure attempts to attack him. His eyes carefully trail along the other’s features, light and youthful. The contrast with the physical appearance he bumped into is so big that for a moment he wonders whether it all just wasn’t a dream or the mindplay of a bored deceased person. He shifts, his gaze still fixed on the man on his couch and recalls the brief power force that hit him and then shakes his head. That wasn’t ordinary play with his mind. It definitely had been real.
“So…” The ghost begins and in a reflex Kouta tosses the still burning candle towards his head. Deep in thoughts he hadn’t expected the other to speak so suddenly and out of sheer panic the candle was the first thing he could fling at the other. The spirit squeaks in surprise more than in fear-ghosts cannot be hit by material objects after all-and watches in light amusement how Kouta grabs a vase with almost withered flowers and saves the small apartment from burning down, or at least from burning a bit.
Kouta however, is less amused. He can feel his heart thumping in his chest and by the thought of another fire caused by him is enough to drive him up the wall. He sighs and eyes the ghost that looks back and sends him a questioning gesture. Would it be okay for him to talk?
Kouta frowns, lips pulled into a thin line as the fear fades from his system. His body can move on his own again and he flexes his fingers as he sits down on a chair near his couch. He eyes the young spirit once more, a lot more at ease than a few seconds before and finally manages to speak again, leaving the heavy voice from earlier behind.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”
“Oh hey, you found your voice back,” the spirit grins mockingly. His eyes brim with amusement as a small pout forms itself on Kouta’s lips. Kouta feels the slight need of explaining himself but decides against it. He decides to hear the boy out first before trying to regain his manliness. The disembodied man doesn’t continue his mockery there and from one second to another his eyes return to being dark and serious. “My name is Takaki Yuya and I have come to search for your help.”
Kouta blinks, looks around as if there is someone else in the room with him Yuya could have addressed and then looks back. There is a light frown playing on his face as he sinks back into his chair and once more takes his time to inspect this Takaki Yuya person.
Now the initial feelings of shock have faded and the fear that hazed his mind pulled away all he sees is a very tired looking young soul. The light brown hair that frames his gentle features looks dull and washed out. The bags underneath the boy’s eyes have bags and despite seemingly being around the same age as Kouta, the early signs of aging show on his face.
Kouta has let himself in with several deceased over the past years and if there was one thing that they taught him it was that their visual state reflected how they felt and this young man obviously felt worn out and tired.
Kouta felt bad for him but shook his head in dismay. He had promised his grandfather to build up a proper existence, to not let dead take over his life like it had done for the past nine years. For some unknown reason Yuya had looked for his expertise in talking with the deceased and Kouta supposed it was because he wanted to reach one of his family members -maybe his evil, angry, still very much alive twin brother-but he couldn’t grant that request.
“I’m not sure what you want from me, but I can’t help you. I stopped being a medium between heaven and earth a few weeks ago,” he answers, lowering his gaze in order to avoid the other’s eyes.
“That’s-not what I came here for,” Yuya says, voice impatient and eyes extremely fixed on Kouta’s hands, “you’re Triggered. You can help me get my body back.”
“I am going to help you with what?” Kouta asks, his voice a little higher than usual. His eyes snap back to the ghost’s-or is he really?-face and he slightly awkwardly continues, “so… You’re not dead?”
A hollow laughter erupts from Yuya’s lips, low and everything but amused. “If only,” he bites back, raising his brow at Kouta who looks back, obviously oblivious and confused. Yuya purses his lips and watches Kouta move uncomfortably in his place, eyes darting through the room but never once glancing over at Yuya’s. He wonders whether he has picked the wrong one, fairly sure he sensed the right energy coming from his when he crashed into his material body. Once more, Yuya tries to measure the spiritual energy coming from Kouta but while he is able to find the Trigger, he has no idea how to pull it. That’s when it all falls together.
“Oh my god.”
“You can just call me Kouta.”
“Oh my God,” Yuya repeats again, shaking his head and mentally slapping himself, “I picked the wrong one. You’re not activated yet.”
Not sure what the sudden change of character is about, Kouta pouts. “You should go back to my home town, if you see those girls you’ll understand why I’m not activated yet.”
Yuya groans and rolls his eyes, “not activated and stupid. Great.”
Kouta’s confused pout changes into an annoyed frown as he eyes the undead spirit on his couch. A small part of him wishes to kick the man off the sofa and out of his house but a bigger part of his subconscious wishes to learn more about his lost body and the Trigger he keeps talking about. He leans on the armrest of his chair and eyes Yuya carefully. He puffs out a bit of air before finally breaking the silence.
“What happened to your body and how am I Triggered?”
Yuya bites on the inner side of his cheek, sighing deep and exhausted. When he went out to look for help, he had expected to stumble across a semi-experienced exorcist that would kick some demon ass, at least enough for Yuya to take possession over his own body again. Instead he stumbles upon a non-activated Trigger with an impressive aura.
He sighs once more and shrugs it off, deciding it probably could have been worse. Possibly. Technically speaking.
“I don’t know how you got Triggered, you tell me. Who died and what was your role in their death?” Yuya begins and he watches how all colors pull away from Kouta’s face. He decides not to wait for an answer, he’s not all that interested in it and a part of him just wants to continue his story and get the move on in hopes for coming across actual help.
“I am an exorcist and just like you, I lost someone very dear to me and that’s when I got Triggered. Let’s just keep it at the fact that I was good at what I did and that’s why some higher ranked demon has pushed me out of my body in hopes of controlling the powers that were once mine.” Yuya ends his story with a small nod and Kouta finds himself gaping at him for a good five seconds.
Hadn’t he been able to speak with the deceased for over nine years and hadn’t he felt the enormous force of pure hate earlier that day, Kouta would have sworn Yuya was a mere friction of his imagination, a result of his new surroundings and his lack of adaption. He nods slowly in response, “and now you want me to help you?”
“God no,” Yuya responds flatly, “I thought you were a lower ranked exorcist at the very least, a decent help. Right now you would do nothing but cause trouble for me and yourself.” Yuya got up, stretching his sore limbs -or something similar-and looked over to where Kouta is. “But thank you for listen-“
Before Yuya can finish his sentence a great force enters the house and flings itself around his throat. He stumbles backwards and Kouta watches with eyes the size of the moon how he struggles with an unseen force. A pat of him panics, another one tells him to calm down and do something about it. He contemplates about lighting another candle but when he hears Yuya’s muffled screams his body simply reacts on his own. He runs over to where Yuya is and with his bare hands he tries to pull away the invisible strength that has fixed itself on the spirit’s throat. With the same force at that Yuya flung to the other side of the room, Kouta now too feels his body getting smashed against one of his cabinets.
With a groan he opens his eyes an checks whether he is still able to move. He scrambles up and realizes soon enough the force barely cares about his presence, it’s Yuya he wants.
“Activate me!” he screams in utter desperation. He wants to help, refusing to see someone lose a fight of life and death in front of his eyes.
Yuya actually momentary manages to peel off the force and smack him against the wall. There is fear and doubt in his big brown eyes as he mutters out of breath, “I-I can’t, you have to do it yourself.” His eyes weaver from Kouta to the corner where the force is slowly building up again. “Think of the person you lost,” with those words he runs over to where Kouta is.
Kouta closes his eyes trying his hardest to think of his grandfather. “I-I can’t, I don’t feel anything changing.”
“Concentrate!” Yuya screeches, running past Kouta and ducking away from the force that throws Kouta down in the progress of missing Yuya.
Kouta doesn’t stand up and while the sounds of Yuya’s struggle keep echoing in his mind he tries to remember the day he came home and saw how the firemen tried to keep the fire in control.
“Come on!”
He vaguely remembers the colors red and orange, indulging everything he once loved in their flames.
His right hand starts tinting.
“Hurry, I can-I can’t take this much longer.”
The realization that he would never see his grandfather again.
He feels his fingers crumbling into a fist without ordering his body to do so.
“Please-“
He feels how the spiritual particles form something around his hand. When he finally dares to take a look, his hand is coughing bullets.
From that point on his body goes numb and his vision becomes black.
~*~
When he wakes up, his eyes remain closed.
“I hope you didn’t kill him, Yuya,” a voice unknown to him says, “it was very dangerous of you to activate him like that.”
He hears a small grumble and Yuya’s exhausted voice. “He wanted it himself.”
“He can hear you, you know,” a third voice chimes in and by then Kouta decides to open his eyes.
He blinks, he half expected a bright light, but instead the dim lights of fluorescent tubes greet him. He tried to scramble up, but a hand keeps him down and he can hear the smile in the man’s voice as he says, “hold your horses cowboy.”
“Where am I?”
“Ah,” the first voice smiles, “welcome to The Underground.”