Work Text:
There is a ghost haunting her.
It sits on a stool near her bed, humming quietly and watching over Mizi as she sleeps. It follows her around, always two steps behind. The ghost hovers over her as the radio plays My Clematis , as Mizi brushes out her hair, as she tucks away pieces of candy aside for someone long gone.
Mizi remembers the first time she saw it. Back then, she thought that she’d entered a new stage to her grief: delusion. At first, its visits were fleeting. Too quick, too few and far between that she could almost convince herself that it was a trick of the light, her exhaustion affecting her mind. Almost.
She remembers seeing the ghost one day, right after vocal lessons. She had just turned a corner and caught a glimpse of short black hair, walking past. She remembered standing there for a few moments in disbelief, before bolting towards its direction— maybe, maybe maybe. It was naive of her to even consider the idea, but at that moment, she thought that somehow, despite everything, Sua was still…well. At least now she knows how stupid it sounded. Because she had reached out, panting and clutching her chest from running, only to be met with cold air.
Instead of Sua, there stood a ghost resembling her, looking straight at Mizi. Its eyes were hollow and its face void of any real emotion. Its skin, if you could even call it that, was impossibly smooth, almost like porcelain. Mizi remembers feeling rooted to the spot, unable to tear her gaze away. She doesn't remember how long they stayed that way–was it five seconds, five minutes, an hour?–before the ghost turned. Its feet seemed to just skim the floor slightly as it floated down the hallway.
From then, its visits became more and more frequent: she saw its silhouette beside her right before she fell asleep, felt its gaze as Mizi sat beneath the courtyard trees, winced when its ice cold hand brushed hers as she ate in the Anakt Garden cafeteria.
Even now as an alien maid zips her up in her new dress, the ghost just stands off to the side with a quiet smile on its face. Mizi accidentally catches its eye and flinches at its soft gaze.
Stop it , she wants to say. Why do you keep looking at me like that?
If you’re going to haunt me, at least talk to me. Please. Anything. I’d give anything to hear your voice again.
But Mizi knows better. So her mouth remains shut. (The aliens would put her through another medical interrogation if she did, citing hallucinations and delusion. She’s too exhausted to deal with any of that).
The maid’s arms (tentacles?) are slimy and cold against her back before it retreats.
Stepping forward, Mizi examines herself in the mirror. And immediately feels bile rise to her throat.
The dress is a deep midnight blue, almost black. It hugs her upper body tightly, constricting her movements, but starts to billow into soft waves of sparkling silver near her hips. Her shoulders are exposed and there is a large ribbon at the top of the dress, its ears acting as sleeves and made up of a similar glittering material. They’ve accessorized it with tiny pearl earrings, and her pink hair is put up in an intricate bun made of braids.
She wants to throw up. She wishes she could because…
Because well. She looks like Sua.
There was no mistake. She’s in the exact same dress Sua had worn to the congratulatory party some months ago. They had been part of the lucky contestants chosen for the upcoming season of Alien Stage. Sua had looked gorgeous in this gown, but in shades of baby blue instead of midnight. Her hair had been put into a half up, half down style Mizi had done herself. She remembers braiding Sua’s hair as they sat at her vanity, and later Mizi had sported a matching mermaid braid to the event herself.
She still looks back at that night fondly. The champagne had tasted like freedom, the beginning of a new life beyond Anakt Garden. It was one of the rare times she had been drunk and tearfully confessed how envious she was of how Sua looked that night, turning heads everywhere they went. Mizi joked that she would steal the other’s gown while they were asleep. Sua laughed at her, and pinched Mizi’s cheek. Later in the dorms when the lights were off and there was no one watching, Sua had kissed her and whispered sweet nothings into Mizi’s ear until she was left a blustering, blushing mess.
From the corner of the mirror, Mizi catches the gentle smile of the ghost. Her throat feels tight when she sees it nod in approval at her dress.
The collar slides onto her neck. Click.
In the mirror, she sees the tiny light shining bright red at her throat.
As the maid gestures her into the party, Mizi doesn't need to look back to know the ghost is still following her.
“Mizi?”
She looks up from her drink. The room is bathed in red lights, and it takes her a few minutes to discern the silhouette walking towards her.
She feels a hint of a smile twitch at the corner of her lips. “Ivan? Is that you? Oh god, how have you been?”
“Hi,” He says, bowing and kissing the back of her hand. “I’m alright. Though this party has been kind of dull.” He laughs, and Mizi softens at the sight of a familiar face. “Do you mind accompanying me to get some fresh air?”
She glances at the alien designated as her escort. “Um…may I…?”
The alien nods and waves her away. Ivan smiles and offers his arm, guiding Mizi smoothly to a secluded corner of the room tucked away behind a large plant. He opens the window and her head throbs as the smell of alcohol and god knows what is whisked away by the crisp, clean breeze of the night.
They rest their arms on the window still. The music behind them fades and a lull of quiet falls between them. Mizi feels her posture relax as her breathing evens out.
It’s just Ivan. An old friend. It’s okay now, you can trust him.
“Your performance was gorgeous, by the way.” Mizi is the one to break the silence. “I was too…distracted…to fully soak it in. But I heard your voice. You sounded amazing.”
Her hand reaches out and squeezes his. Reassurance.
“I’m sorry he didn't get to hear you.”
“It’s fine I wasn't really expecting anything out of it.” He says. “You and Sua sounded unreal as well. For what it’s worth, I know she’d be so proud of you.”
Mizi laughs. It sounds garbled and choked up. She can feel the eyes of a ghost from behind her.
“She would've made fun of your little love ballad.”
“Oh god she would. I would never hear the end of it.”
Mizi snorts. “I don’t blame her, you should’ve seen the look on your face. If I didn't know any better I’d have thought you were trying to propose to someone in the crowd,”
“Shut up. This is a judgment free zone.” He huffs. “I now see why you two worked out, you both are so mean to me.”
She laughs, pushing at his shoulder before a comfortable silence settles again. From the corner of her eye, she sees Ivan open his mouth before shutting it again.
She smiles, brow furrowing. “What is it?”
“Nothing, nevermind.”
“Come on! What is it? ”
He sighs, pursing his lips. “I just—” He hesitates. “I know it probably won’t change anything but…It’s not your fault you know?”
“I know.”
“ Do you?”
She falls quiet. Of course she knows this. But if it’s not her fault, then why is she being haunted by that thing ? Why can she still see Sua’s body collapse onto the stage, her smile and soft eyes forever frozen in time? The white of her dress slowly turning scarlet as Mizi screams and tries desperately to stop the bleeding is a memory that replays itself over and over again at night. Guilt had been a foreign feeling to Mizi, but now it claws its way up her throat and shreds her insides with every breath she takes. Missing her was a physical ache. Her fingertips tingle whenever she reaches out to entwine hands only to be met with empty air.
The ghost was simply a cruel reminder of her grief. A mental manifestation of her failure, accusing her with its silent gaze that you shouldn't be here . She'd be alive if it weren't for you.
“Mizi?”
She curls into herself. “I’ll be fine.”
Ivan looks at her for a moment, seemingly searching for something before he sighs. “If you say so.” Ivan lets go of her hand and digs up something from the pocket of his suit. He hands her a letter, clearly filled to its maximum capacity, with ink stains at its edges, yellowed and worn out.
She recognizes the handwriting at the front immediately. To Mizi , it says.
“I wanted to give this to you later. Let you process everything first. But since your upcoming round is tomorrow I wanted to give it to you now…just in case.”
If it’s possible, the lump in her throat seems to grow larger as her chest tightens.
“She…she knew that this was going to happen. I’m sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I tried to warn her but she was stubborn as always.” He says, sounding remorseful. “You know how Sua is.”
“Yeah. Sounds just like her.” She spits. The bitterness of being the one left behind sits heavy on her tongue. She scratches the edge of the letter, rubbing at Sua’s handwriting.
“...But she left this for you. I hope it’ll be a comfort somehow, however small.”
Mizi feels a surge of warmth for Ivan. Back when they were kids, she was jealous of the quiet understanding Sua and Ivan had shared. It was only when they grew up that Mizi decided to get closer to him, and she was pleasantly surprised to find out how nice Ivan could be. She didn't totally get him, with how easily he put on a mask around the aliens and the caretakers and his tendencies to purposely antagonize the people he most cared about. But still, she understood his sense of longing. Yearning for someone who slips away from your fingertips like water.
At this stage of the competition, Mizi only had Ivan to truly understand what she was feeling. And for that she’s forever grateful for his presence and company.
“Thank you.”
Mizi reaches out and wraps Ivan into a hug. She feels him stiffen, before melting and resting his head on the top of hers.
“ Thank you, really.” She repeats. “Good luck in your round.”
Her words ring hollow, even to her own ears. She’s lost Sua, and now she knows she’s going to lose Ivan too. He’s too similar to Sua in that way.
Self-sacrificing idiots.
“You as well,” He says and lets her go. “You look so beautiful tonight by the way. The dress suits you nicely.”
A voice booms from a microphone somewhere in the party. “IVAN!” It yells. “UPCOMING PERFORMANCE BY THE RISING STAR IN FIVE MINUTES!”
“And that’ll be me.” Ivan sighs, sounding mildly amused. He leaves a chaste kiss on the back of her hand and smiles warmly. “I’ll be sure to watch you tomorrow. See you around, Mizi.”
His words feel like a goodbye.
“...yeah. See you around.”
Mizi squeezes his hand and watches him leave. The booming music is merely static to her, the letter in her hand too heavy and her heart beating too fast. A moment passes as she just stares at Ivan’s retreating back, before the ghost seems to float towards her. It looks mildly curious at whatever is written in the envelope.
“Hello again.” She says quietly. Mizi must seem insane to whoever may be watching, talking to a silent room.
The ghost is very beautiful, she’ll admit, if she takes more than a few moments to look at it. It has Sua’s appearance, still in her white dress from that day. But the blood stains seem to resemble delicate red flowers, so instead of coming off as morbid it seems intentional, almost pretty in a way. Mizi could almost delude herself into thinking she was talking to Sua if it weren't for the eyes and legs of the ghost. Its shoes trail off into nothingness every time it moves. Its eyes, while soft and gentle, are nothing more than hollow holes that have none of the sparkle Mizi was so used to seeing in her Sua. This apparition was unmistakably a ghost.
There was also no point in reasoning with it. Or even attempting to talk to it. And yet…
“You’re so cruel, you know.” Mizi says, scratching a little harshly at the letter. Watching the pencil stains rub off on her fingertips. “You–you promise forever and yet you leave me behind without another word. And now even in death you refuse to talk to me.” Her voice cracks and breaks at the end. How pathetic. If Sua were with her now, she’d shake her by the shoulders and lecture her about the importance of making the most of your life, and how there was no use mulling and regretting decisions you can no longer change.
Still, Mizi buries her hand in her hands, messing up her hair and rubbing at her forehead. “Even Ivan is going to leave me soon…” A tear slips out, leaving a faint trail of mascara on her cheek. “God the two of you are such cowards . You think you know what’s best for everyone but you don't. Why did you never tell me? Why did you have to lie ?”
Here, in the quiet of the night and surrounded by no one but her own delusions, Mizi lets out a sob. “You said if we sang a duet we’d have the same score…w-we were supposed to win. Together. ”
The ghost merely looks at her. Expression blank except for its eyes, black voids filled with nothing but pity in them.
“...I hate you.” She seethes, even as the tears trickle down her face and her cheeks grow uncomfortably hot. The letter crumples under her tight grip. “God, you know what? I wish we had never met. Then at least I wouldn't have to suffer because you’re too selfish to think about anything other than yourself.”
Still the ghost says nothing.
Her words are clearly a bluff. Mizi doesn't mean them, and it's obvious even to her that it’s something she's saying in the heat of the moment. Even so, it stings to be greeted with dead silence.
“You’re not going to say anything? Really?”
“...”
“Fine. Be like that. I don't care.”
She wipes away at her tears and whips around, stomping away from the window angrily. The letter is still in her hand in a death grip. As soon as she reenters the party, she’s hit by the scent of alcohol reeking from everyone there. Ivan is still singing, and the aliens cheer him on. The music is too loud, her skin feels tight, and each time she squeezes her way through the crowd the sliminess and coldness of the aliens makes her want to hide in her room and never come out. She fiddles with her collar, looking around in mild panic.
“ No more taking it slow! ” She can hear Ivan crooning to the audience, enchanting them with his voice. He has everyone captivated, so this should be an easy escape, she thinks.
“ The edelweiss of my feelings bloomed because of you … ”
Where are they? She stands on the tips of her toes desperately, trying to peer above everyone’s heads to look around.
“ I don’t wanna stop! Don’t think this time’s enough!”
A tentacle wraps itself around her waist and she jumps. An alien leers down at her and Mizi tries to wriggle out, stumbling over her words and coughing out an excuse about retiring to bed early for the next round. The alien warbles something in a language she doesn’t recognize, before it notices the letter in her hand and tries to reach for it. Mizi jumps, lashing out and instinctively slapping its arm away.
“...Cause you baby still it’s not enough, for me alright?”
Oh no. “I–I…oh god, I’m so sorry I didn't mean to–” The alien looks furious, and Mizi heart rate picks up as the walls of aliens and party goers seem to close in on her. The room swims in her vision, a blur of red, as sweat slowly drips down her back. She holds onto the letter like a lifeline. “I don’t–”
From the corner of her eye, she spots her escort and practically sprints to their direction, wringing her arm away from the alien’s slimy grasp while shouting an apology over her shoulder. She reaches their table and spins some story about feeling tired. The words seem to flow out of her like vomit, and her breath is coming in short gasps. Thankfully they seem to notice and buy her excuse, checking her temperature before leading Mizi back into her room.
Away from the bright lights and nauseating scents, Mizi allows herself to rest. She covers her mouth and tries to relax, even as the blood seems to keep rushing to her head.
One…two…breathe in.
Three…four…breathe out.
She sighs. Finally.
Stripping from her dress, she lets go of the letter. Mizi wants so desperately to throw that damned gown out the window: tear it to shreds, leave this all behind. It’s so obvious that this was their way of mocking her, taunting her with the remnants of her lost love. All because it was funny to them. She was merely amusing entertainment to pass the time.
But Mizi knew better. Of course she did.
So instead of doing anything she turns away, fixing up her stuff, drinking her medications as she ignores the ghost behind her, now sitting at her desk and humming something. No, not something. She knows this song. Of course she does.
Even beyond the grave, my life still seems to revolve around you, huh?
She ignores the ghost, choosing to change into her pajamas and tuck herself into the bed. She’s too tired to deal with anything anymore. But after tossing and turning for a few moments, Mizi stares up at the ceiling and her mind starts to wander. What would her opponent be like? She’s heard of Luka before, the famed winner from last season. Would she be able to beat him?
Mizi muses that maybe it’s best if she loses. She shouldn't be here anyway. Sua always had the better voice between the two. She had the top grades in class, was always the lead whenever she and the children were forced to perform for the sponsors of Anakt Garden. Mizi merely survived because of her sacrifice, so really, it was unfair to the other contestants who got by because of their raw talent.
‘Hope bloomed from the abyss…’
“Hey Sua. Would my death render yours to be pointless?” Mizi asks out loud.
The ghost again doesn't react, just keeps singing softly into the silence.
‘Oh, my clematis…’
I miss you . She thinks. The letter falls to the bed as Mizi’s eyes droop. The ghost’s voice fills her room and leaves sticky sweet trails of music in its wake.
In the haze of her exhaustion, Mizi sees the vague outline of the ghost reaching out. She feels its cold hands cup her face. Its lips are smooth and lifeless as it leaves a kiss on her cheek before she feels its lips quirk up into a smile.
‘Always be by my side…’