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Tatsumi wonders if this was truly the smartest decision for him to be making.
He’d been escorted to this old, creaking house, with boards that complained of old aches and dust that clouded his vision with each step. The only real light came from the weak flashlight grasped in one hand, swaying in time with his cautious steps. Muted moonlight crept in through tattered curtains of the high windows behind him but did nothing to help illuminate the hallway before him.
Perhaps this wasn’t his best idea. The woman that lived next door to the place had led him there, quickly bade him luck, and vanished as soon as she came. It was obvious how much apprehension people had for the old building.
He’d heard rumors, of course. Rumors of eyes in the shadows, cold hands on skin burning with adrenaline, whispers of advice from a pale figure that lured in the desperate. Tatsumi wondered if any of his faith had come for that reason, if the church had failed them. (If he failed them?)
Well, whatever the case, Tatsumi would do what he needed to for anyone that wished for his help. That was his job, after all.
Even with that knowledge, he couldn’t help the jolt of fear that raced up his spine when the house settled somewhere upstairs. The dust swirling in his desperate breaths also certainly did not help his fight or flight response. Perhaps he should just leave; something about the cold breaths on his neck made him think this was no place for God to be lurking.
He immediately whirled around, light flashing desperately as he tried to find the source of the breeze (not breaths, that was impossible, right?) but found nothing, nothing visible, not at first glance. Struggling to still his shaky breaths, he tried to think rationally. Tatsumi was only here to investigate the cause behind the strange hauntings in the area. He wasn’t even sure whether or not he believed in ghosts. There were reasonable explanations for everything; one just needs to look for them.
Though, rationality is a little hard to hold on to, especially when your light flickers out, leaving you alone in a dark and allegedly haunted house.
Tatsumi cursed quietly under his breath, whacking the hunk of metal against his hand. It spat out a weak beam of light for a moment before sputtering out again. How could this be? He could’ve sworn he’d bought this flashlight just yesterday.
Another waft of icy air brushed against his neck and he flinched back again, though his foot caught uncomfortably against the steps behind him, losing his balance and falling backwards to land on the unsteady stairs, instinctively closing his eyes.
Hm. Perhaps this would be his end. Perhaps he shouldn’t have saved this request until so late at night, even if it meant missing some other deadlines. Perhaps this was God forcing him to repent for the things he couldn’t do. Perhaps he should have finally cleaned out the pile of books he was meaning to read. Perhaps-
“A-ah… I’m sorry, are you okay..?” a stuttering voice asked, and Tatsumi opened his eyes.
The man before him had long purple hair caught in a loose braid, the ends of the ribbon holding it frayed. A weak lantern flickered on and off on the floor next to his feet, casting a dim blue light that mostly just lengthened the shadows around him. Weathered gloves covered slim hands, currently fidgeting with the dark strands intertwined between deft fingers, weaving in and out. He had a simple collared shirt and clean trousers. However, his eyes were a piercing turquoise color akin to Tatsumi’s hair, shining in the darkness as they twitched anxiously from side to side.
“..Yes,” Tatsumi whispered, still breathless from the fall. “What are you doing out here so late?”
“I think I could ask you the same thing. It is dangerous so late at night, after all,” the stranger giggled. His head tilted to the side slightly, eyes fixed unblinkingly on him, continuing to play with his hair. Tatsumi felt his heart stop for a moment, and he seemed to notice him stiffening, hands freezing up.
Before he could speak, Tatsumi shakily pushed himself to his feet. “I apologize if I was intruding. The people nearby requested I investigate whether this house was haunted, as it was causing some of them stress, but I did not realize it might have still been inhabited. Nobody ever comes in or out, after all.”
“Oh… n- no, that’s okay,” the stranger stammered. “I’m sorry I scared you, I’m just a lowly being.. I truly don’t belong here, please disregard me.”
“Don’t you live here?” Tatsumi asked, perplexed.
“Eh? For lack of a better word, I suppose I do… I should just be banished though, I’m only dirtying these premises..”
He continued quietly lamenting his own existence under his breath. Tatsumi stood awkwardly, unsure what he could say in these circumstances. There was something odd about the way he held himself, and how he also seemed to cast a soft glow, icy light that Tatsumi had only just noticed on the edges of the floorboards nearby. A sudden realization struck him, though it was surely impossible, but there was only one way to find out-
“Are you dead?”
The stranger fell silent, blinking owlishly at him. “Ah… yes, I suppose I am, and whatever fate it was, I surely deserved it..”
“I’m sorry, that was– a little insensitive, perhaps,’ Tatsumi cut them off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just didn’t expect that ghosts could exist.”
“Well, I’m standing right in front of you, so,” he squeezed his hands together silently, back to staring at him with those hollow eyes.
“Yes, I understand that you exist now, I suppose… to be honest, I didn’t think this would actually turn up with a real, tangible haunting. I’m really not too sure what to do from here. You don’t harbor any ill will, do you?”
The ghost flinched as if Tatsumi had just accused him of a crime of the highest degree. “I promise I don’t! Quite the opposite, really. You don’t have to believe me! But I assure you the most I want to do with humanity is help out where I can!”
“I believe you,” he hummed reassuringly. “Ah, wait, how rude of me. I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Tatsumi Kazehaya, and I’m from the local church, which my family runs. What’s your name?”
“From the church, oh my… I’m simply some scum, I’m afraid. Mayoi Ayase, at your service,” he murmured, uncertain.
“No worries,” Tatsumi smiled gently, brushing off some more of the dust off his clothes. “I do think you’re quite lovely, so I’d rather disagree with the notion that you’re mere scum.”
Mayoi’s pale cheeks seemed to darken a few shades of blue, and Tatsumi briefly wondered if this was how all ghosts blushed. “Y-you don’t need to say such things just to make me feel better,” he squeaked, though he seemed to hold himself much lighter after hearing Tatsumi’s words. “I’ve been causing those people outside so much stress, after all… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do anything, I’ve just been here for as long as I remember. People have moved in and out, but… they never stay long, and whenever I keep an eye on them, it seems to put them on edge, no matter how hard I try to keep out of sight…”
Tonight was certainly an interesting case. Tatsumi would have to come back and learn more about ghosts some time. The house was still on sale by the previous owners, and now that he thought about it, he was sure he’d heard briefly about the frequently changing homeowners from some of the other people in town. At worst, he’d worried about there being some malignant spirit, assuming those existed, and instead he’d found an anxious but seemingly well-meaning ghost. Ghosts usually linger because of some unfinished business, right? Perhaps he could help resolve it for him. After all, the neighbors had asked Tatsumi to help resolve the eerie atmosphere surrounding the place, and surely it wasn’t pleasant to be stuck in one building for so long.
“May I come back here, Mayoi?”
The ghost, who’d been watching him think, blinked at the question, eyes widening. “C-come back? Nobody’s ever really come back, after running into me..”
“I don’t see why that is,” Tatsumi frowned. “You’ve been kind enough.”
He watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face. “I see… uhm, in that case, if you’d like to return, I certainly wouldn’t mind. Please take care of yourself, though. You seem stressed.” A pause. “Ah, I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I-I was a little worried about you, is all.”
Tatsumi paused. People certainly told him to take care, bade him well wishes, of course. He wasn’t too sure when was the last time someone specifically noticed his current state.
“Thank you, Mayoi. I’ll be back tomorrow night,” he smiled gently. A warmth spread through him slowly when Mayoi smiled back, like molten honey sticking in his veins as the ghost glowed slightly brighter, in spite of the chill that seeped through the entire house.
It was nearing 11 p.m. when he finally returned to his room, collapsing on his familiar bed. The warm blankets enveloped him with the smell of home, but his mind stayed fixed on a crystalline blue, framed by deep magenta. There was work to be done tomorrow, but he took his time with his nightly routine anyway. Perhaps this was the novelty that had finally found its way into his usual schedule. Mayoi– who was he, really?
A quick visit to the library’s microfiche of old newspapers the following morning yielded little of value. There was nothing in the obituaries past a passing mention of them a few decades back, only really mentioning that he had still been a teenager at death. Awfully young, all things considered– perhaps this was a contribution to his continued existence?
Tatsumi hurried through schoolwork and his usual tasks around town as quickly as he could. His mind was seemingly somewhere else the whole time, hands running on autopilot as he dwelled on the memory of a shy ghost. It was almost a relief when night fell and he sat alone in his room. His parents trusted him enough at this point to believe that he would know when it was too late, though he doubted they would be too happy if he stayed out so late two days in a row. So, after a moment’s deliberation, he finally walked over to his window and slid it open, feeling a rush of cold air hit his face. It felt horribly wrong to be sneaking past his parents in their room to grab his shoes before climbing outside. While he had snuck out many times before in earlier times of his life, it had ultimately left him with unpleasant lasting memories, and apprehension followed in his footsteps as he hurried down empty streets. Still, he had made a promise, and Tatsumi carried out his promises, at least as best as he could.
The house was just as cold and empty as it was the night before. While still weak, the moon seemed the slightest bit brighter tonight, though he still regretted that he hadn’t thought to bring another flashlight. It was, admittedly, a little odd that the door had still been unlocked, though he supposed nobody had ever cared much for the place.
As he stepped further down the hallway from yesterday, he felt an iciness rush through him, and he stopped, turning around to see Mayoi once more.
“Hello, Mayoi,” Tatsumi greeted him with a polite dip of his head.
“H-hello, Tatsumi,” Mayoi beamed, holding the lantern from before in one hand. It cast a sickly blue-green hue on him, but his expression positively glowed, a warm familiarity already deep in his eyes. “How are you tonight?”
Tatsumi smiled back, leaning against the wall next to him. “I’m alright. How have you been?”
“Things have been quiet, just as always,” the ghost hummed, eyes trained on the lantern as he traced shapes on it absentmindedly. “Y-you don’t have to worry about how I’ve been, though. Not much changes when you’re just a phantom.”
“I worry about you, though. Isn’t it natural to worry about a friend?” Tatsumi frowned.
Mayoi let out a somewhat undignified squeak at that statement, gaze flying up to meet the human’s. “F-friend? …Are we friends?”
There was something tentatively hopeful in the question, a nervous sentiment that made Tatsumi’s heart feel like it was melting into pieces all over again. “At the very least, I’d like to hope that we can become friends. If that’s okay with you.”
“It is, of course, I– uhm, are you sure that’s okay though?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
The ghost was silent for a long moment, tracing triangles in slow, careful movements on the handle of the lantern. “I’m not human anymore, am I..?” He paused again, biting his bottom lip with jagged teeth. “You’re so much, so bright, and I’m just me. I’m not even a living being. At best, an imprint, and at worst, something repulsive to be scorned. And then you, you’re…” he gestured wordlessly, eyes wide. “...You.”
Tatsumi stayed silent for a moment, his expression soft. “I’m much more beyond just what you think I am. I want to get to know you better, Mayoi. I think it’s a shame you have to hide your beautiful face so much, you know?”
Mayoi squeaked again, and Tatsumi could feel his heart flutter with another rush of warmth, as if fuzz had enveloped his limbic system. The small laugh that bubbled out of him was involuntary, as if the warm buzzing inside his body was welling up and needed to be heard.
They wandered the house that night, not too worried about its state, considering how someone had lived there just a few weeks before. It was surprisingly clean, all things considered, if ignoring the dust settled in every corner of the house. Tatsumi sneezed as his feet stirred up countless specks of debris, prompting Mayoi to hurriedly offer a stream of “bless you”s and rushed apologies. Most of the house was devoid of furniture, but the kitchen they ended up in still had a simple wooden table with chairs pushed against it under a window framed in white. They sat and talked about nothing in particular while watching the stars outside, blinking shyly in the dark sky, with a crescent moon to watch over them quietly. It was a welcome break from everything else Tatsumi had been doing during the day. Mayoi had no expectations to hold him to, nor did he want to ask anything of him, even something as simple as pulling out the chair opposite to him so that he could at least pretend to sit.
“I can’t touch things, you see. Only this lantern,” he’d explained, amid a messy scatter of apologies for inconveniencing Tatsumi.
The aforementioned lantern sat on the table next to where Mayoi had his hands clasped primly in front of him. It was still a cold blue, but there was now a hint of purple somewhere in there, faint but certainly not a figment of Tatsumi’s imagination. He smiled as he rested his head on one hand, watching how Mayoi’s gaze fixed on some point in the night sky. The light from his lantern as well as the stars outside cast a soft glow on his handsome features, and when he turned to meet Tatsumi’s face, the man was sure the stars themselves had settled themselves within the ghost’s eyes.
Mayoi blushed upon noticing how Tatsumi had been watching him, plush lips falling open slightly. He smiled apologetically, turning away slightly in case he’d made the other uncomfortable. It was mostly quiet after, but neither minded, happy to simply sit and watch the stars together.
When exhaustion finally began to tug at the edges of Tatsumi’s consciousness, and yawns continued to escape him despite his best attempts, Mayoi gently urged him to go home. “You have school tomorrow, don’t you..? Please don’t stay awake simply for my sake.”
“Hnn, but you’re so much more interesting than class,” Tatsumi slurred sleepily. Perhaps the sleep deprivation had left him a little too honest, as he didn’t fully process the words until they already hung in the air, but oh well. It was the truth.
Mayoi paused, fingers quivering as he blushed again. “School is important, Tatsumi.. Please forgive me for telling you what to do, but you should take better care of yourself, you know?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Tatsumi yawned again, finally relenting as he pushed his chair back. “Thank you for worrying about my well being, Mayoi. I’ll be back tomorrow night, though~”
“...I think it’s time for you to go home,” Mayoi commented, also standing up albeit while phasing through the table.
He followed Tatsumi on his way out, stopping at the edge of the doorway. As he watched him go, a worried expression on his face, Tatsumi turned back and waved slowly. After a moment’s pause, he waved back as well, expression gentle.
As the weeks passed, this became a kind of routine for the two, with Tatsumi sneaking out to meet him and spend peaceful nights alone together. It was akin to a sort of safe haven for him. While he still considered how he might help Mayoi with whatever was keeping him tethered to this life, there was an underlying desire to have him here with Tatsumi. It was selfish, and he knew this. It was a kind of desire that pumped through his veins and rested heavy on his tongue like the sweetest poison. He’d never had companionship like this, not for as long as he’d been alive, and so to finally have somebody so lovely was entirely new to him.
They would spend nights together talking about life, about the things they wanted to do, and the things they could never. Some nights Tatsumi would bring schoolwork and scribble out answers to equations in the moonlight or Mayoi’s lantern. On others, when Mayoi began to hold himself more confidently around Tatsumi, he would listen to the ghost talk about what was on his mind, what little he remembered of his life.
It was a strange thing, admittedly, to have a ghost be your closest confidant. But when Tatsumi looked at Mayoi, and he felt affection swell in his heart, overflowing until he was sure this warmth seeped from every pore, he hoped it wasn’t selfish to hope for Mayoi to stay among the living forever.
(As the weeks turned to months, Tatsumi couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if the overwhelming tenderness in his heart turned out to be more than that. What does one do when they want somebody they can’t have?)
He still remembered being asked to resolve the issue of the haunting within the neighborhood, of course. And he would, he promised himself, because he would always fix what he felt he could fix.
And so maybe if he could resolve Mayoi’s loneliness (and his own in the process), maybe that could be enough. If he wished for it enough, maybe the burning want would turn into tangible reality. Maybe, if he wanted and wished and tried with all his might, maybe he could make it real. Tatsumi hadn’t felt this alive in ages. Even if he didn’t deserve to still come back to life, to live another life as if what he’d done in the past had never mattered, he had never wanted something as badly as this.
Because truthfully, he wanted to live again. Mayoi made him feel safe, like he could take care of something, like a corpse reanimated.
He wanted to live again, and it was for the sake of the departed.
“Can I ask you something?” Tatsumi asked one quiet night, lying on the hard floor as he looked for patterns in the popcorn ceiling.
Mayoi glanced at him from where he lay next to him, his lantern flickering for a moment where it sat on his other side. The light had been brighter than ever before the past few days, now a light lavender color that cast a soft glow on the edge of his face. “Of course. You know you don’t have to ask.”
“I know, but.. you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to.” Tatsumi closed his eyes, organizing the words in his mind. “...How does it feel to die?”
The ghost was quiet, watching him cautiously. It was dangerous territory to be treading for the both of them, but they refused to waver in the face of adversity, and it was as such the ghost finally thought of a response. “Why do you ask, Tatsumi?”
He took a few breaths, opening his eyes again as he tilted his head to meet Mayoi’s anxious gaze. “It’s nothing serious, I promise. I just… wondered, I guess. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. We can ignore it if you’d like.”
“...No, it’s okay,” the other hesitated. “I really don’t remember much, just… cold. Quiet. Peace, I guess.” He glanced away for a beat, clearly not wanting to recall more. “Does that answer your question?”
Tatsumi hummed, closing his eyes again. “...Yes. Thank you. I apologize for bringing up something unpleasant.”
“Why do you ask?” Mayoi questioned him again, still staring at him.
The man paused, slightly opening his eyes to meet Mayoi’s anxious ones. A beat, and another, before he finally responded: “Truthfully, I sometimes wonder if I’m not already dead.”
A brief silence reigned, and Tatsumi could hear his heart pulsing in his ears, regret already flooding his brain. The heaviness was lifted slightly as Mayoi finally cleared spoke again, barely above a whisper. “Why do you feel that way?”
“Because I brought my own doom upon me,” Tatsumi breathed into the silence. “Because I doomed not only myself but my closest companion at the time.” He looked away. “I tried to change something, and it was at the cost of everything around me.” It has haunted me forever, he thinks, but does not say. Its spirit is one that seeks revenge, and rightfully so.
Mayoi was silent for a moment, before he shifted closer to Tatsumi, prompting him to turn and look at him with wide eyes. “You’ve made me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt. Maybe more than when I was alive, even.” His gaze softened somehow even more, making Tatsumi wonder if this was how it felt to melt until all there was left was a dripping puddle of warmth. “Maybe you couldn’t change something so ambitious, and maybe it was just impossible to begin with. But you are still here, and no matter how much of yourself you think you’ve lost, you are still so much purer than you might believe.” He paused, realizing what he’d just said. “A-ah, I mean, you don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to-! Perhaps it’s pretentious of me to try to give you advice.. sorry, sorry, um-”
Tatsumi cut him off with a soft laugh, eyes crinkling as he turned to look at him. “No, I appreciate it, Mayoi, Thank you.”
At some point, it felt as if they’d both lost track of how long they’d spent together. It was easy to spend nights together in silence, listening to crickets chirping in the overgrown garden outside. The old house had lost its previous chill, instead filling Tatsumi with a gentle happiness as soon as he stepped inside, eager to meet with the ghost waiting for him all day. They would trace imagined and real constellations in the stars outside the windows, or sing serenades of old songs they both knew. The first time Tatsumi heard Mayoi sing, he felt his heart physically flutter, as if it had grown wings and was vying for freedom via his throat. The spirit’s voice was sorrowful and rich, powerfully beautiful as it created melodies steeped in a hot pitcher of his favorite tea.
It wasn’t rare for Tatsumi to find himself silently watching Mayoi when they simply enjoyed each other’s company. He was far less abashed from his every action, happily tending to his lantern that burned an ever persistent warm purple.
“Tatsumi?” Mayoi asked suddenly, one other quiet night.
The man hummed curiously, looking up from where he’d been watching snow fall outside, settling in fluffy piles amid freely sprouted weeds.
“Do I ever bother you, too much?” he faltered, not moving his gaze from his lantern he’d been polishing.
“How could you ever bother me?” Tatsumi blinked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re wonderful to be around, you know?”
Mayoi looked away at that, beginning to fidget with some of his hair. “I don’t know… I just hope you haven’t stayed here just because you feel some sort of obligation to.”
“Haven’t I ever told you..? I don’t care if you’re a ghost. You’re the realest companion I’ve ever had.”
The ghost finally looked up at him, gauging his expression as if seeking for any hint of doubt in his expression. A moment of silence reigned between them before he finally spoke again. “I know, just… making sure, I guess.”
His lantern seemed to glow a brighter shade of purple as Tatsumi got up and pulled his chair next to Mayoi, ignoring the flustered sound it got out of him. “I’ll confirm it for you as much as you need me to. You’re a wonderful friend, Mayoi.” After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand next to the ghost’s, ignoring the waves of cold that immediately pierced his skin. “I would never trade this time we’ve had for anything.”
For a moment, he thought Mayoi might deny it as he usually did, but the ghost stayed silent instead. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Tatsumi could’ve sworn he felt a sudden rush of warmth from the frigid hand next to him, especially when Mayoi offered him a hesitant but wholly honest smile. It always felt like he had a million words resting at the tip of his tongue, as if Mayoi was constantly holding back from saying what was truly on his mind, but just at this moment, Tatsumi truly hoped that he’d been able to offer him even one moment of respite.
With each day that passed, he’d embraced the ghost more and more, and it had gotten to the point where he wondered if all this pent up love might one day overflow and burst the fragile dam he’d built in his mind.
But he didn’t want to overwhelm Mayoi, didn’t want to ruin this thing they’d built up, and so he held himself back as best he could. However, it certainly didn’t escape his thoughts. When he returned home late after dark, when his thoughts kept him up, they would always drift to a certain ghost, to peaceful hours spent in the place he felt safest. They returned to his oh so selfish wish to have him with him forever, even if ghosts only lingered because of some great regret.
Tatsumi loved Mayoi. And so, he would do his best to help Mayoi abscond whatever ties might have restrained him from moving on.
Still, saying as much was far easier than actually accomplishing it. He wondered sometimes if it was some selfish form of self sabotage.
Mayoi had clearly noticed his change in behavior, his lantern sometimes flickering back to a fragile blue, even if he had been able to school his expression into something that better hid his worries. Tatsumi was sleeping even less again, poring over books about ghosts and spirits and the supernatural. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, but he refused to rest, not until he found a good solution.
(No matter how much he wished the opposite, surely Mayoi wanted to have his peace, as well.)
The house itself had laid forgotten for who knows how long at this point. While the residents of the neighborhood gossipped far less about a plausible haunting, the stories already permeated its reputation. Tatsumi saw it as a perfect opportunity to conduct his research without any obstacles.
Unfortunately, Mayoi seemed to finally have had enough of his constant exhaustion and his claims to be alright despite the weariness that weighed down his bones. It was only about a week before he finally questioned Tatsumi, clenching his lantern with white knuckles.
“What’s worrying you so much, Tatsumi? Why won’t you let me help you with whatever is bothering you?”
Tatsumi couldn’t meet his gaze, fixated on his shoulders, his hands, anywhere but those intense mint eyes. “..Can I be completely honest?”
“O-of course you can,” Mayoi stuttered, beginning to trace circles on his light with one hand without realizing.
“I’m trying to figure out what regrets are keeping you tied here,” Tatsumi answered, finally looking into Mayoi’s face. “I want to help you resolve whatever is worrying you so. That’s all.”
Mayoi paused, eyes wide. “Really..?” It was now his turn to flick his eyes away, biting his lip nervously again. “You could’ve just asked, if… if you really wanted to know.”
“Oh.” Tatsumi blushed slightly. “Sorry, I.. I guess I never thought to.”
The ghost couldn’t help but giggle quietly at that, his whole demeanor lightening. “Sometimes you get so carried away trying your best, don’t you?” he smiled gently, his tone far from mocking. “I can tell you now, if you want.”
“Okay,” the other nodded, moving closer to Mayoi again. “Tell me, and I’ll do what I can to make sure you won’t suffer anymore.”
The ghost blushed, one hand moving to play with the braid he always held his hair in. “Well, truthfully, you’ve pretty much already fulfilled it.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, before looking up to meet Tatsumi’s eyes. “I grew up completely isolated. While not much else has stuck with me, I can remember the constant loneliness I felt, always on the fringes of society.” His lantern flickered a rich magenta as he also stepped forward, until he was close enough for the cold he emanated to reach Tatsumi’s warmth. “I only ever wanted a companion, someone I could call wholly my beloved. And… and I’m so sorry if I-I’m overstepping, or infringing, or–” he paused, trembling. “U-um… I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, knowing something like me feels this way, but… ahhh, I can’t hide it anymore! I love you Tatsumi, I love you more than anything I could’ve ever loved when I was alive, a-and I’m so sorry I love you…” he trailed off, now quivering hard enough Tatsumi was scared he’d drop his lantern, blushing a deep violet.
Tatsumi wondered briefly if he was dreaming, if this could possibly be real. If he actually had wished this into reality, or if he’d been blessed with this flustered, beautiful ghost before him. He felt like all the air had been sucked out of his body, as if there was nothing left in this world except Mayoi.
“U-um, I’m so sorry if I overstepped!” the ghost stammered, misinterpreting his silence. “I think I’ll only move on if it’s reciprocated, so, uhm, maybe I should have realized before I was being pretentious to assume you might have felt the same way! I’m sorry! I-”
“Mayoi,” Tatsumi cut him off gently, cupping his hand where Mayoi’s cheek might have been had he had a body. “Mayoi,” he said again, struggling to string the words together.
“Y-yes?” Mayoi squeaked, and Tatsumi couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as all his love and affection finally was free to course through his entire body, enough to knock him over if he’d been any less composed.
“...If I tell you I love you, will you be able to move on?”
The ghost looked at him for a minute, silent, nervous. “Probably. Maybe. I… I can’t promise I know what happens after.”
“Do you want to move on?”
“I…” Silence. “I don’t know. But, at the same time, I want to know you can move on.”
Tatsumi was quiet for a moment, but he recognized the acceptance in Mayoi’s eyes. “Okay.” He took a breath. “I love you too,” he finally confessed, the words tripping over each other with their eagerness. “Don’t apologize, my dear, I love you too.”
Mayoi seemed to be struck dumb for a moment, previously empty eyes filling with a vivid light, his lantern gleaming brighter than it ever had before. Then, a soft contentment washed over his face. It was the most beautiful face Tatsumi had ever seen on Mayoi.
“May I-I.. kiss you?” the ghost stammered, as time froze around them.
“Of course,” Tatsumi whispered back, as blinding warmth enveloped them both.
Cold, incorporeal lips met warm ones, and it was not nearly as awkward as Tatsumi worried it might have been for the briefest of moments as body heat and frigid iciness mixed together. Warm acceptance bubbled up within him, and for the first time, he finally let his regrets leave his mind for even a moment, feeling as if life coursed within him once more. There had never been freedom as sweet as this as he fully mentally embraced the ghost and let himself be loved just as equally back.
Even if he wasn’t completely sure yet this was the future he deserved, he wondered for the first time if this could be a new start to life. Perhaps he could be better this time around. It took teamwork to truly fix things, after all. Maybe Mayoi had been the missing piece he’d lacked all along.
When they separated, Mayoi had nothing but amazement in his eyes, and Tatsumi was sure he looked the same. As the ghost cupped his hands over his cheeks lightly, Tatsumi let the biting cold stab his skin freely, unfearful of the discomfort it brought. The lantern now set at Mayoi’s feet glowed a pleasant shade between purple and pink. He imagined if the fondness still spilling out from him could be seen, it would have been that specific, perfect hue.
“Aren’t you going to leave, now that you’re free?” Tatsumi finally murmured, still processing what just happened,
“You’ve given so much to me, Tatsumi. How could I regret living a little longer when I finally have you?” Mayoi replied, quiet but overflowing with genuineness.
There is an angel living in my heart , Tatsumi thinks, meeting Mayoi’s loving gaze, and his name happens to be yours.