gravitation (general), prompt #09
Yuki Kitazawa found Shuichi Shindou in the back of Miss Osborne’s second grade class. Riku was taking a math test, and Shuichi was whispering numbers into his ear.
“Oh dear,” Yuki sighed. “You’re trying to make the boy fail.”
“Shut up,” Shuichi hissed, ineffectively waving him away. “I’m good at American math.”
Yuki arched an eyebrow, but refrained from telling him that American math was the same as Japanese math. He was feeling kindish today. “I brought something for you,” he said, coming around to Riku’s other side.
Shuichi held out his hand and accepted the cupcake with some puzzlement. “What’s this for?”
“Losing track of time already? You died a year ago.”
Shuichi stiffened, looking at the cupcake with an unreadable expression on his face. Riku’s pencil faltered, as if he sensed a change in the air, and Yuki bent down to tell him the correct answers.
“A year already, huh? So it’s like…my death birthday or something?”
“Something like that. If you feel like going to Tokyo tonight, they’re throwing a party in your honor at NG.”
Shuichi paused, cupcake halfway to his mouth, and frowned. “How is it you know about these kinds of things and I don’t?”
“I suppose you’ve just got other things on your mind.” Yuki glanced up as the classroom door opened and Mr. Curtis, the counselor, stepped inside. He spoke quietly to Miss Osborne; she called to Riku, beckoning with her hand when he looked at her. “Hm, here we go.”
“What?” Shuichi asked around a mouthful of cupcake.
“C’mon.” Yuki straightened up and began to walk with the boy as he headed for the counselor. “You’ve got icing on your lip.”
Shuichi licked it off and followed.
“Your father’s on the phone,” Mr. Curtis said.
Shuichi, grateful that being dead gave him the ability to understand the English language (which had so eluded him while he was alive) sat on the man’s desk, leaning in as Riku brought the receiver to his ear, eager to hear the voice on the other end. Yuki stood back against the wall, wearing a look that was half-disinterest, half-obligatory-patriarchal-concern.
Riku spent a few minutes listening and nodding, and then, as if just remembering his father couldn’t see him, said, “Okay.” And then, “I mean, yes.” He nodded again, again, and again, and then handed the receiver back to Mr. Curtis, who hung it up.
“Is your father coming to pick you up?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to talk?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Mr. Curtis nodded and reached under his desk to pull out a basket of figurines and action figures. Riku looked at them for a moment before settling on a Batman one; Shuichi and Yuki nodded in approval.
“Who do you want to talk to?”
“Mama.”
The two ghosts watched as the counselor picked out a Princess Peach figurine.
Yuki snorted. “Good choice.”
Shuichi ignored him.
“Mama’s listening,” Mr. Curtis said.
“Hi, Mama,” Riku said in a strange, low, gravelly voice.
“Hi, Riku. How are you feeling?”
“Sad,” Riku said in the same tone, like he was impersonating a bear.
Yuki whispered (for no real reason other than because he could and it seemed polite) to Shuichi, “I almost expect him to start chanting ‘redrum’.”
Shuichi looked at him blankly. “I’m sorry, that reference is lost on me.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Shuichi shushed him and turned his attention back to Riku and his counselor.
“Why do you feel sad?”
“Because nobody saved you.”
Shuichi’s brow furrowed along with the counselor’s. “What do you mean?”
“When the bus crashed,” Riku said in that voice, calmly, as if the bear he seemed to be channeling was simply discussing the weather, “nobody came to save you.”
The counselor and the Princess Peach figurine nodded at the figure in Riku’s hand. “Like Batman?”
“Or Daddy.”
“Well, you know,” the counselor said slowly, a bit carefully, “Daddy probably couldn’t have done anything to…change what happened. So you shouldn’t blame him.”
“I don’t,” Riku said. “But he saved me once, so maybe he could’ve saved you, too.”
“Did you tell Daddy this?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
Riku said nothing for a moment, then took a deep breath, and growled, in an even deeper tone, “‘Shut the hell up and eat your dinner.’”
Mr. Curtis blinked rather comically.
Yuki nearly doubled over in laughter.
Shuichi smiled, sort of, like he wanted to laugh, too, but couldn’t.
Shuichi sat in the passenger seat of the Benz and wished that Eiri didn’t listen to NPR. Seriously, he would’ve preferred anything else. Even country. Seriously.
“Respect the dead,” he muttered. “Don’t listen to NPR.” He looked over his shoulder at Yuki in the backseat. “That should be on a bumper sticker.”
“No one would get it.”
“Dead people would.”
Yuki shook his head. He looked at Riku, who was silently staring out of the side window. He looked at Eiri, who was silently staring out of the front window. He looked at Shuichi, who was silently staring at the radio, willing it to change. “…This is a really depressing car ride.”
“No one invited you to come along.”
“No one invited you either.”
Shuichi shot a quick glare his way, but it was gone in an instant, when Eiri suddenly turned off the radio and spoke. “Hey. Do you know where we’re going?”
He received three simultaneous answers-“Hell”, “Disney World”, and “Mama’s grave”-but he only heard the last one.
“No, dummy. You expect this car to take us to Tokyo?”
“Yes.”
“What are they teaching you at that school?” He rolled his eyes. “We’re going to Central Park.”
“My guess was closest,” Yuki said.
Shuichi didn’t reply. He looked at the man beside him curiously. Eiri hated Central Park.
“Did you ever ride in one of those horse-drawn carriages?” He asked. “With your Aunt Yoshiki?”
Riku shrugged and Eiri gave him a look in the rear-view mirror that meant speak. “I don’t know.”
“Shuichi wanted to, when we visited, when were first looking for a place. Remember?”
“Yes,” Riku said, and Shuichi nodded, slowly, eyes never leaving the novelist. He’d seen couples do it in movies, and he’d always wondered…always wondered what it’d be like. Just to ride around the park, just to be close to his lover…
“But I wouldn’t,” he said. “I figured-we’d have time. Later.”
Shuichi wanted to touch him. He wanted to hold him. He was hurting. He was in so much pain. It was easier to pick up on that now, and Shuichi wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He liked knowing, but knowing kind of sucked when he couldn’t do anything about it. Yuki told him once that it got easier, but he had the feeling the other man had been lying.
Eiri parked the car a few blocks away and was still for a moment before he turned around in his seat and looked at Riku. “So. You want to go for a carriage ride?”
Riku nodded. “Okay.”
“Don’t say okay,” Eiri reprimanded gently. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
Shuichi followed them out of the car and into the sunshine, smiling slightly when Eiri let Riku take his hand. He paused, looking back. Yuki stood, unmoving, leaning against the car.
“Are you coming?” Shuichi asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m sitting this one out. You go on.”
Shuichi nodded and Yuki watched them go. And he wondered if Eiri and Riku sensed it, sensed him there with them without Yuki’s own presence to make it more difficult. And for the first time, he hoped so.
“Oh dear,” Yuki sighed. “You’re trying to make the boy fail.”
“Shut up,” Shuichi hissed, ineffectively waving him away. “I’m good at American math.”
Yuki arched an eyebrow, but refrained from telling him that American math was the same as Japanese math. He was feeling kindish today. “I brought something for you,” he said, coming around to Riku’s other side.
Shuichi held out his hand and accepted the cupcake with some puzzlement. “What’s this for?”
“Losing track of time already? You died a year ago.”
Shuichi stiffened, looking at the cupcake with an unreadable expression on his face. Riku’s pencil faltered, as if he sensed a change in the air, and Yuki bent down to tell him the correct answers.
“A year already, huh? So it’s like…my death birthday or something?”
“Something like that. If you feel like going to Tokyo tonight, they’re throwing a party in your honor at NG.”
Shuichi paused, cupcake halfway to his mouth, and frowned. “How is it you know about these kinds of things and I don’t?”
“I suppose you’ve just got other things on your mind.” Yuki glanced up as the classroom door opened and Mr. Curtis, the counselor, stepped inside. He spoke quietly to Miss Osborne; she called to Riku, beckoning with her hand when he looked at her. “Hm, here we go.”
“What?” Shuichi asked around a mouthful of cupcake.
“C’mon.” Yuki straightened up and began to walk with the boy as he headed for the counselor. “You’ve got icing on your lip.”
Shuichi licked it off and followed.
“Your father’s on the phone,” Mr. Curtis said.
Shuichi, grateful that being dead gave him the ability to understand the English language (which had so eluded him while he was alive) sat on the man’s desk, leaning in as Riku brought the receiver to his ear, eager to hear the voice on the other end. Yuki stood back against the wall, wearing a look that was half-disinterest, half-obligatory-patriarchal-concern.
Riku spent a few minutes listening and nodding, and then, as if just remembering his father couldn’t see him, said, “Okay.” And then, “I mean, yes.” He nodded again, again, and again, and then handed the receiver back to Mr. Curtis, who hung it up.
“Is your father coming to pick you up?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to talk?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Mr. Curtis nodded and reached under his desk to pull out a basket of figurines and action figures. Riku looked at them for a moment before settling on a Batman one; Shuichi and Yuki nodded in approval.
“Who do you want to talk to?”
“Mama.”
The two ghosts watched as the counselor picked out a Princess Peach figurine.
Yuki snorted. “Good choice.”
Shuichi ignored him.
“Mama’s listening,” Mr. Curtis said.
“Hi, Mama,” Riku said in a strange, low, gravelly voice.
“Hi, Riku. How are you feeling?”
“Sad,” Riku said in the same tone, like he was impersonating a bear.
Yuki whispered (for no real reason other than because he could and it seemed polite) to Shuichi, “I almost expect him to start chanting ‘redrum’.”
Shuichi looked at him blankly. “I’m sorry, that reference is lost on me.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Shuichi shushed him and turned his attention back to Riku and his counselor.
“Why do you feel sad?”
“Because nobody saved you.”
Shuichi’s brow furrowed along with the counselor’s. “What do you mean?”
“When the bus crashed,” Riku said in that voice, calmly, as if the bear he seemed to be channeling was simply discussing the weather, “nobody came to save you.”
The counselor and the Princess Peach figurine nodded at the figure in Riku’s hand. “Like Batman?”
“Or Daddy.”
“Well, you know,” the counselor said slowly, a bit carefully, “Daddy probably couldn’t have done anything to…change what happened. So you shouldn’t blame him.”
“I don’t,” Riku said. “But he saved me once, so maybe he could’ve saved you, too.”
“Did you tell Daddy this?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
Riku said nothing for a moment, then took a deep breath, and growled, in an even deeper tone, “‘Shut the hell up and eat your dinner.’”
Mr. Curtis blinked rather comically.
Yuki nearly doubled over in laughter.
Shuichi smiled, sort of, like he wanted to laugh, too, but couldn’t.
Shuichi sat in the passenger seat of the Benz and wished that Eiri didn’t listen to NPR. Seriously, he would’ve preferred anything else. Even country. Seriously.
“Respect the dead,” he muttered. “Don’t listen to NPR.” He looked over his shoulder at Yuki in the backseat. “That should be on a bumper sticker.”
“No one would get it.”
“Dead people would.”
Yuki shook his head. He looked at Riku, who was silently staring out of the side window. He looked at Eiri, who was silently staring out of the front window. He looked at Shuichi, who was silently staring at the radio, willing it to change. “…This is a really depressing car ride.”
“No one invited you to come along.”
“No one invited you either.”
Shuichi shot a quick glare his way, but it was gone in an instant, when Eiri suddenly turned off the radio and spoke. “Hey. Do you know where we’re going?”
He received three simultaneous answers-“Hell”, “Disney World”, and “Mama’s grave”-but he only heard the last one.
“No, dummy. You expect this car to take us to Tokyo?”
“Yes.”
“What are they teaching you at that school?” He rolled his eyes. “We’re going to Central Park.”
“My guess was closest,” Yuki said.
Shuichi didn’t reply. He looked at the man beside him curiously. Eiri hated Central Park.
“Did you ever ride in one of those horse-drawn carriages?” He asked. “With your Aunt Yoshiki?”
Riku shrugged and Eiri gave him a look in the rear-view mirror that meant speak. “I don’t know.”
“Shuichi wanted to, when we visited, when were first looking for a place. Remember?”
“Yes,” Riku said, and Shuichi nodded, slowly, eyes never leaving the novelist. He’d seen couples do it in movies, and he’d always wondered…always wondered what it’d be like. Just to ride around the park, just to be close to his lover…
“But I wouldn’t,” he said. “I figured-we’d have time. Later.”
Shuichi wanted to touch him. He wanted to hold him. He was hurting. He was in so much pain. It was easier to pick up on that now, and Shuichi wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He liked knowing, but knowing kind of sucked when he couldn’t do anything about it. Yuki told him once that it got easier, but he had the feeling the other man had been lying.
Eiri parked the car a few blocks away and was still for a moment before he turned around in his seat and looked at Riku. “So. You want to go for a carriage ride?”
Riku nodded. “Okay.”
“Don’t say okay,” Eiri reprimanded gently. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
Shuichi followed them out of the car and into the sunshine, smiling slightly when Eiri let Riku take his hand. He paused, looking back. Yuki stood, unmoving, leaning against the car.
“Are you coming?” Shuichi asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m sitting this one out. You go on.”
Shuichi nodded and Yuki watched them go. And he wondered if Eiri and Riku sensed it, sensed him there with them without Yuki’s own presence to make it more difficult. And for the first time, he hoped so.