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"Please, Shijima-chan!" Natsuhiko was on his knees again, his legs getting wet in the water of her boundary. "I never ask you for much!"
"You ask me for something every few weeks. I have my own sub-sketchbook for you, what with all your requests," Shijima responded, she didn't, but she knew that it would make him feel special, hence getting him out of her hair.
"Really?" The momentarily-lived stars in his eyes told her just how manipulatable he was.
No wonder Nanamine-San decides to spend time with this scrub, Shijima thinks. They were a very refined and intelligent person in her eyes, maybe they used the unassuming and seemingly pathetic crew intentionally. If they were always surrounded by those hooligans, then they seemed like royalty in comparison.
Quite smart, really, Shijima continues to think, until she remembers her current situation. Really, she wasn't sure what to expect when she heard the worrisome sound of her boundary's water being disturbed.
First, she thought it may have been Yashiro, or maybe she just wished it was Yashiro. Sure, the girl very rarely bothered Shijima, but out of everyone she could name that would waltz into her boundary to bother her for something, there were definitely some people she'd want to see more than others.
Yashiro was a sweet girl, she would ask for whatever politely, and take whatever No. 4 could give her with grace. But unfortunately, she knew the moment she heard it that those weren't the steps of her fat elephant ankles.
No, those were the steps of one specific man, one man who happened to be very tall, but you'd never know it from how often he knelt or laid on the ground.
Shijima knew she was in for a hell of a ride the moment she saw his bouncy brown curls. His hair would probably be a nightmare to paint, the lighting of all of those tiny curls, the color itself, maybe she would only draw the vague shape and ignore the details. He didn't deserve the details anyway.
And before No. 4 knew it, he was on his knees in her water, grasping her hands in his like he was pathetically worshipping her. She had already forgotten what he was yelling about, but she assumed something about Sakura. He was always yelling about Sakura.
"What are you yelling about again?" Shijima decided to ask, she needed at least some frame of reference before she denied whatever he wanted this time.
Natsuhiko looked up to meet Shijima's eyes, and he seemed almost betrayed, which told Shijima her dismissal had been exactly as rude as she meant.
"Mitsuba-Chan!" He called back, like it was common sense, like she should just know he was suddenly showing interest in the pathetic puppy-like ghost he never seemed to care about much.
"Yes, but what about No. 3?" To be completely honest, Shijima didn't know much about the ghost that became the "new three", just that he had been just a student, he'd passed sometime in the winter, and that the broadcasting club had taken a strange interest in him.
(She also knew that he wasn't the original "Mitsuba Sousuke", but she'd rather not use the same terminology she used for herself and her creator with this almost-stranger.)
"He's lonely! He wants friends like humans have 'em!"
"And I fit into this where?"
Natsuhiko had his dumb "you don't already know?" face on again. "Well—! You be friends with him!"
"Why me? Doesn't No. 3 have that exorcist boy?" Shijima quickly went through everyone she knew was in Mitsuba's life, and honestly, she could see why he didn't want them for friends.
His closest option was probably No. 7's brother, but Shijima couldn't think of a person that would want to willingly spend any time with him. He laid over her easels when he visited— also uninvited. He draped himself over all her supplies, getting paint and pencil markings all over himself.
There was Natsuhiko, but as already established, he wasn't a great company. Every other second he needed to look at himself or "his lady". And he had no simple manners.
Sakura was a wonderful company, Shijima would invite them over more if she could, but she could never get Sakura alone. They were always tailed by the others, one man glamoring all over them, and one boy refusing to ever let them go.
Natsuhiko seemed to pick up on Shijima's train of thought, for a moment dropping his over-the-top mask, and asking her for genuine help.
"Listen, No. 4, the kid is desperate. It's causing the runt to use that desperation as an excuse to cause even more of a ruckus and my lady is sick and tired of it."
Shijima absolutely believes what Natsuhiko says. It is very on-brand for Tsukasa to take the desperation and vulnerability of anyone and use it against them. And it sounds like the exact thing to tick Sakura off.
"Just spend one day with him... I'm sure y'know how lonely it is not being human enough."
Now he was just trying to get her to feel pity. And unfortunately, it was working. Because she did know exactly what it was like to watch humans live their everyday lives and wish she could be a part of them.
She knows exactly what that feeling is. She knows most of what poor No. 3 is feeling. She understands not only the longing to be human, but also the feeling of not being the original.
No matter how much she improves her art, Shijima will never make anything as impactful as Mei could. Shijima could never be her own person. She was nothing but a wish. A final ask to fate from a dying girl.
And no matter what Shijima did, she was never enough for that dream. She was only paper in the shape of a girl. The shape of a ghost.
But her and Mitsuba are in the same boat. A boat that is stubbornly stuck in the waters between the near and far shore. Too close to the supernatural to die, too far from humans to ever fit in with their normal lives.
"I just think you and Mitsuba-Chan could have more in common than you think."
Natsuhiko stood with that, and moved to leave the boundary of School Mystery No. 4, leaving No. 4 speechless in her thoughts.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
No. No, her and Mitsuba weren't the same. Sure, they both secretly longed to be human. Sure, they were both recreations of a once living breathing human. Sure, they had similar ambitions and the same feeling of emptiness because they could both never reach those dreams. And sure, they had both made wishes to Tsukasa.
But they are not the same. Shijima is different. Something. There must be something about Shijima Mei that is different from Mitsuba Sousuke.
Well, there are many things that are technically different about them. But at heart, at nonexistent, never beating heart, they were the same. Weren't they?
No. No they weren't, Shijima realized. Mei created Shijima. Mei created a version of herself. "New and improved" with a long life ahead of her. Shijima was the self-persevering, hard-working dream of a poor girl who died too soon.
"Mitsuba" was an excuse for a kid that lacked the body coordination to stay out of the damn road. He got his perfectly recreated body just built for him.
He didn't spend hours creating the perfect persona that Mei did. Shijima knew, she knew how long it took to properly figure out how the light hit her glasses.
She knew how Mei hated the muddy darkness of her hair, how she made her creation's hair the perfect color in her eyes. In just the right lighting, her creation's hair would light green, like the gardens she would watch being tended to from her window.
How she would long to be out there working herself, standing proudly, no tubes attached to any part of her. How she wished she could do any physical activity and need only the normal amount of sleep afterwards.
Shijima knew what Mei longed for. She was there for every little dream and thought that came out of that head. Every longing glance out the massive taunting window in her hospital room. Every time Mei heard those stupid whispered words of pitying nurses and doctors, Shijima was there to push their worthless words out of her mind.
But Mitsuba had no connection to his original. She couldn't even call the original his creator, because he just wasn't. Tsukasa Yugi was Mitsuba's "creator", but they had nothing on what Shijima had with her perfect creator. What Mei had with her perfect creation.
So no. Shijima and Mitsuba were different. And No. 4 would not find herself bending over backwards for No. 3.
No. Shijima would mind her own damn business, stay locked up in her boundary and draw her perfect masterpieces.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Shijima couldn't draw. She couldn't force herself to do anything. Her pencil refused to touch paper. Her paintbrush refused to touch the canvas.
The only thought on her mind was that insignificant pink mess of mangled supernatural parts. For some twisted reason, she finds herself thinking of him like she thinks of herself.
Well, not herself today, but her many years ago. How many years had it been, since Shijima took her spot as No. 4? How long has it been since she set foot in that godforsaken hospital?
But most importantly, she couldn't stop thinking, how did she feel when she was new to it all? When she was first a "baby wonder", it wasn't all that long ago, was it?
She remembers, of course, she could barely handle the grieving of losing her creator. All those years ago, all she drew was Mei. All she drew was her master. Her creator. Mei Shijima.
But of course, she got over it, she drew other things, other people. She stopped thinking of what would the real Mei do? At every slight inconvenience and tried doing what she knew Mei wanted her to.
Mei wanted her to live on. To make her art and get her name out there. It was the best way to do it, being a wonder. When people walked to the art room they talked about Mei. Not Mei, but the next-best option. They talked about Shijima-San of the art room.
Sure, what they said was wrong, Mei never killed herself and her parents weren't all that bad. But still, the name on their lips is Shijima-San. There's a bit of Shijima that smiles every time she hears her rumor being spread.
She promised herself to stop asking herself What would Mei do? But now, maybe Mitsuba thinks and feels everything that Shijima once felt, maybe she should think of Mei, just this once.
What if Mei were in this situation, asked to try to befriend a person in her same "line of work" and they had general similarities? Would Mei give the new No. 3 his chance?
It's an empty-brained question, of course Mei, the sweet sick girl with a heart of gold, would make friends with this kid. But that's why Shijima was so hesitant to ask herself.
Mei had one more wish. She never had any friends, always cooped up in her hospital bed. All she did was sleep and draw, she didn't make any friends, she didn't know any names.
So, Shijima decided, only for her creator, she would attempt to be kind with the wet-cat excuse of a man that was No. 3.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Doing this for Mei. Shijima had to remind herself as she silently walked down to the broadcasting room.
She wasn't sure if this was the best place to go, as Natsuhiko never clarified what he wanted her to do after making her decision.
So Shijima went to the basement of the school. It was a long walk, as the art room was at the highest point of the school. No. 4 only hoped she wouldn't have to face any other supernaturals, let alone a wonder.
She began ranking the wonders on how little she'd like to face while on her walk, (after realizing how truly boring this day was already looking). Her first thought was No. 2, as her boundary was right next to Shijima's own, but the inari wasn't anywhere near her stairs.
Shijima had a guess of where, or more who, No. 2 may be with, but she isn't one to meddle in the lives of other people. Although there really wasn't any meddling needed to see how close No. 2 and No. 5 had gotten.
They argue like an old married couple, but who is Shijima to judge? The wonder right in the middle of their bickering is the answer to that question. After all, right between 2 and 5 lays 4, meaning she couldn't catch a break as much as they could.
However, moving on from thinking about the love lives of her "co-workers", No. 5 was much higher on Shijima's list of wonders she would like to run into. At least he can hold a conversation and keep his hands off her, which is much more than she can say for the bottom of her list.
Shijima thinks accidentally finding Honorable No. 7 in the halls would be a fate worse than death. He, in fact, cannot keep his hands off anyone. He's almost as bad as his brother, who couldn't sit still or quiet if his life literally depended on it.
Of course he would never be in a situation like that, Tsukasa is the one to threaten people with their own lives, not the other way around.
Wow, Shijima muses, stopping for a moment in the halls to watch a mokke group cheer for a bird fight happening in the courtyard, when did my life get so boring?
Deciding which Yugi twin she'd rather be threatened by was not something No. 4 could have thought of herself doing today, but then again maybe having stupid thoughts was better than the lack of thoughts he had up in her boundary.
With her train of thought broken, and little care in the birds or mokke, Shijima simply stopped thinking for the rest of her walk. Except for the single thought she had of wondering what compelled her to walk the human way.
She didn't need to walk every step all the way down the stairs and through all the halls. Was all her thoughts of humans really getting to her that much? So much she was trying to act like them? Has she gone soft?
You're doing this for Mei, was all Shijima had to tell herself to truly shut up her brain and keep her legs moving forward.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
At the door of the broadcasting room, Shijima was greeted with a sight that matched the image she had in her head perfectly.
Her eyes first darted to Sakura, sitting at the desk covered in general broadcasting equipment, book in hand, looking as effortlessly elegant as ever.
The moment the waters of the boundary shifted to welcome Shijima's steps, Sakura glanced up.
"No. 4," Their eyes crinkled in recognition. They opened their mouth again to speak, but they were immediately interrupted by two screaming voices.
"No way! Shijima-Chan, you showed up!" From a voice that made No. 4 want to turn right back around and head to her boundary.
And a much louder, to be honest, younger voice simply shouting, "4!! 4!!!" For the fun of it.
What went on in that small ghost child's head was something Shijima never wanted to think of. At least neither of them tried to up and run to shower No. 4 with physical touch.
Even Mei disliked being touched often, especially by people she wouldn't consider herself close with.
The next thing Shijima noticed was that Mitsuba was nowhere to be found. Well, at least not in her view, as she couldn't seem to find him.
However, that thought quickly ended when she watched Tsukasa jump up from the couch (?) he sat at, and just as fast floated over to the large pile of what looked like old and broken radios.
From the pile, Tsukasa grabbed something that whined, and with strength Shijima didn't know he had, pulled a pink mass up and out.
It took one moment for Shijima to realize what he had grabbed: the very reason she left her boundary.
Mitsuba's wet cat eyes looked pained and deflated as he turned to look at the ghost holding his arm relentlessly. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted by Tsukasa yanking his arm to pull him to his feet.
Then, still giving him no time to process or adjust, Tsukasa began pushing Mitsuba through the broadcasting room and shouting words that Shijima only heard a few of.
He yelled things that a mother might say, "Go make friends—! Play nice—! Don't eat her! That wouldn't be nice—! Have fun, bye-bye!!!"
And then it was just Shijima and Mitsuba, alone in the basement of the school, the broadcasting room door shut in their faces.
"That little..." Mitsuba turned around, and a spiteful expression met Shijima, which quickly turned to shock, and maybe fear, "No. 4."
"No. 3," Shijima did her best to look and sound non-threatening, as it seemed that Mitsuba didn't know what was happening.
Mitsuba's eyes seemed to dart in every direction, looking for a way out of this awkward exchange.
But Shijima was going to fulfill Mei's wish of having friends, no matter what. So she made sure No. 3 would look right at her.
"Listen," She may have accidentally dropped the calm and harmless demeanor she worked so hard to hold for him, "I was told you are lonely. And... because we have some similarities, we could be... friends."
The word tasted salty in her mouth, even though it was the exact reason she was compelled to try. For Mei.
Mitsuba's eyes only deflated more at Shijima's words. He didn't look impressed. Honestly, Shijima wasn't impressed either.
However, she did all this work, leaving her boundary and her art projects alone for him, the least he could do is try.
After long, silent, and almost aggressive eye contact, Mitsuba finally caved. He sighed deeply, like the drama queen he is, and spoke with annoyance.
"Fine. Only because I know Tsukasa-Kun won't let me back in if I don't!"
It wasn't Tsukasa that called for her, Shijima wanted to tell him, but maybe she could let Natsuhiko's sudden compassion stay unsaid.
That was what friends did, wasn't it? They didn't say what the other didn't want to be said, didn't they?
Wow, I really have gone soft, Shijima thought yet again. Then she immediately shut herself up again, For Mei.
"What do human friends usually do?" She then asked, because honestly, she didn't know.
Mei barely knew, and Shijima hadn't properly socialized like a human in a few decades by now.
Mitsuba didn't have a direct answer, apparent in his almost exasperated, somewhat-surprised expression and tone. "You don't even know? You're the one who's insisting on being with me!"
Shijima clenched her fist and closed her eyes, instead of opening her mouth. This kid was insufferable. She had been in his presence for not five minutes, and she wanted nothing but to go back to her boundary and force her way through this sudden art block.
But she would stay. For Mei she would try with this piece of work of a wonder. And maybe for herself.
Shijima didn't bother to open her eyes to speak, not wanting to look at the other wonder's face, worried she would lose her efforts to calm down.
She kept her voice as level as she could, "You see humans more often, I believe. It has been much longer for me than you interacting as humans do."
When she didn't get any response, Shijima did her best to sound kind again, "I don't know what I'm doing either. Not when it comes to humans."
Shijima let the silence hang this time. She was being nice, she was giving No. 3 his time to think. If he decided he hated her, she wasn't against going back to her boundary for the next two decades again.
And Shijima was ready to leave him in the stairwell, until his voice reached her ears. He spoke much quieter now, maybe trying to be nice to her too. His annoyance was also still very much there.
"How long has it been?"
".... A while."
It was all Shijima said, like she didn't count each and every day. Like she didn't know the exact day and time that Mei passed. Like she was normal.
Mitsuba was clearly not impressed with Shijima's answer, his eye going half lidded. "Do you not know?"
"Is this an interrogation, No. 3?" Shijima tilted her head up, she was glad she stood on a higher step than Mitsuba did. If he wanted to sass her, she'd sass him right back.
"Why? Do you need to be interrogated, No. 4?"
Shijima didn't break eye contact with him for as long as she could. Until she broke, and chuckled at her own antics. She heard how Mitsuba laughed too.
Maybe making friends isn't all that bad.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Now, Shijima and Mitsuba sit at the top of the stairs that lead down to the broadcasting room.
"So we're out of earshot." Mitsuba had explained. Shijima understood completely, though she may be starting to enjoy Mitsuba's company, she didn't want the broadcasting club to hear their conversations.
(And according to Mitsuba, they would be intentionally listening.)
She didn't mean to be so observant, but Shijima couldn't help but notice how Mitsuba watched each and every student that shuffled by.
(There weren't all that many, school had ended, but of course, humans went to school activities and clubs. They always seemed to love staying at the school as long as they could. Good for them....)
No human that passed acknowledged the two of them. They weren't truly there, not like the students were. Neither of them even had their own previous human identities.
It didn't pass by Shijima how Mitsuba stared at every person walking by. She noticed that longing look in his eye. And again it made her think of herself, all those years ago.
"The real world doesn't bat an eye at cases like us, does it?" She chuckled dryly.
Her words snapped Mitsuba's attention back to her, and she thought no time like the present. She had specifically come to meet No. 3 in hopes of helping someone she thought of as herself long ago. And maybe she wanted to heal that bit of herself she tucked away in the seal on Mei's sketchbook.
"I was like you, once." Shijima turned her head to face down the stairs. She couldn't bear to look at Mitsuba's wide eyes.
"I know how you feel. The real world keeps moving on without us. These humans will grow and leave, but we will stay." Shijima scoffed, or maybe it was a pitiful attempt at a laugh. (She knew it was an effort to keep her tears back longer.)
"I've been seventeen for the last twenty years." She did laugh that time. It felt good to explain her pathetic existence in simple terms. Sure, it only defined how sad the mere existence of a supernatural, let alone the recreation of a dead girl, was.
"But, I never lived those years. I was there for maybe one or two of them."
"What I'm trying to say is, I'm not Mei. I never was, and I never will be. She made me in her image, but a painting could never truly match the beauty of the muse.... No. 3—"
"Mitsuba." No. 3 interrupted, prompting Shijima to face him now. His eye had tears too. "You can call me Mitsuba."
Now it was his turn to awkwardly turn to watch the stairs, averting himself from her gaze. "No don't know if that's just a Wonder thing, but you calling me by my number doesn't feel right. It feels like a title, and I don't want to think of you as just 'The 4th School Mystery'.... I'd rather think of you as...."
Mitsuba's words fell off, like he couldn't bring himself to admit his feelings. Shijima understood how he felt, "As a friend? I'd like to think of you as a friend too, Mitsuba-Kun."
That was how Shijima found herself someone she could relate to, even if he was a bit of bitch, at times.
Neither of them had their own identities to wear, so they borrowed from the dead.
Mitsuba had said, after their bonding and frankly emotional conversation, that Shijima could find him whenever she liked. "I'm literally in every single mirror in the school, just pick one."
So, For Mei, and maybe a lot for herself, Shijima placed a small mirror near her easel corner in her boundary.
Now, she could have a friend to talk to while she painted.
And Shijima would be lying if she said she didn't like how lively her boundary felt when she could hear Mitsuba's voice.