Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kid’s body was found immediately. Since he had no family and the brand of a terrorist, he was cremated and ashes thrown in the trash. That’s what Tiger heard. 

But he swears he’s being haunted, Kid is still here, in the corner of his eye.

It’s always a silhouette, but he knows that curly hair anywhere, that profile, the slope of his shoulders. And at first Tiger thinks he’s just seeing things, wondering if maybe it was the fact that he saw Kid not long before his death that rattled him more than he thought, but that wasn’t it. Things would move without him touching it, things would turn on without him being in the same room, and he would find random stuff missing. 

At this point he’s slowly being driven insane. That shadow would move in the corner of his eye and just linger. When he turns his head, it’s gone. Then he starts hearing voices. No, not voices in his head, but an actual whisper once in a while. It’s so soft he thinks it’s just the wind, but it always says his name Tiger. And he knows that voice anywhere. 

So he loses sleep. His appetite wanes with each paranoid look he throws over his shoulder. 

He runs into a church by the 2nd week and asks for a priest. They only shove him in a booth and have him confess. He sputters his way through about seeing shadows, but they only look at him with pity and have him leave.  

He scours the internet for answers - but it’s all stories about the paranormal and ghosts. He refuses to believe in that shit. So he tries to ignore it all, but the more he does - the more he sees, the more he hears, and the final straw that broke the tiger’s back? 

A touch. 

The unmistakable feeling of a fucking hand angrily yanking at his chains around his neck, fast, choking him in the middle of an announcement in front of his fans. 

And he loses it.

He practically rips Kid’s locker open and takes it off its hinges. There’s not much, not even a change of clothes. Some of all that’s left is some loose coins, first aid stuff, and magazine clippings of fights and how-to techniques. 

The first item to catch his attention is keys. Keys to a vehicle of some sort. He didn’t think Kid drove, so he takes them. 

The second is a pacifier.

And the third is nail polish.

They’re all so bizarre and so unlike Kid, unless he was a secret father or cross-dresser or something. He debates just leaving them in there, feeling a little creeped out by it, but maybe he felt a touch on the back of his hand or something because he takes those as well. 

He’s about to slam the locker shut, but at the last moment he sees it, under a stack of papers, there’s something hidden. He pulls it out. It’s a box of unopened Marlboro Reds, still shrink wrapped. He knows for a fact Kid doesn’t smoke and it’s Tiger’s favorite brand. He looks at it closely in confusion and he wonders why it’s in Kid’s locker. It’ll be a waste just sitting here, so he takes it as well. He gives one last look in the locker, then slams it shut.

Tiger rushes home, the items heavy in his pockets, the keys jingling against the nail polish bottle, and the pack of reds feeling like it’s weighing it all down. When he stumbles through the doorway, he’s not surprised to see a binder sitting on the table in the dining room. He definitely didn’t leave that there, in fact he hasn’t looked through it in forever, and it’s something he leaves in his office. Tiger glares at a random corner that’s still in the dark, assuming the shadow is lurking there. 

He doesn’t see anything. He pushes his hair back and groans. He really is going crazy. 

He glares at the binder instead, sitting down and gingerly picking it up just in case it’s rigged with explosives or something. Nothing happens. 

It’s a photo album of his fighters, filled with head shots of their faces, each a large printed color photo and behind them, a copy of it on shitty printer paper. He took these for identification purposes, but they look like mugshots instead. He flips through the pages, past faces he’s not familiar with, then stops at a photo of Kid. He stares at Kid’s face. It’s a more recent one, the man is frowning, eyes straight forward, curls wild. It’s bright in color, his features accentuated by the glossy paper.  

He’s not sure what compelled him, but he slides the shitty copy out of the sleeve, folds it neatly, and puts it in his wallet. 

The radio in the living room suddenly turns on, making him jump in his seat, almost puking out his heart. 

The police are still searching for the accomplice of the man who assassinated Baba Shakti and Rana Singh. He is described to be around 5’4”, black hair, brown eyes, and walks with a limp. If you-

The radio turns off. 

Tiger sighs and just yells, “Fuck off!” Not in any particular direction, just into the empty, and he emphasizes to himself, empty apartment. Just him. No one else. He doesn’t care if his neighbors think he’s crazy at this point. 

There’s a moment of quiet before the radio in his bedroom turns on. Very, very loudly. 

The police are still searching for the accomplice of the man who assassinated Baba Shakti and Rana Singh. He is described to be around 5’4”, black hair, brown eyes, and walks with a limp. If you-

“Jesus! Okay! Okay!” Tiger screams, covering his ears. 

It shuts off again. 

“What do you want me to do?” Tiger asks into the air. But there’s no answer. So he just stomps to his bedroom, not even bothering to change and tries to sleep. 

He falls asleep quickly, but all he could dream of is the silhouette of Kid. Usually in his dreams Kid doesn’t even do anything, just skirting around in the corner of his eye. But in this dream, he sees the shadow clearly in front of him, it circles him curiously, and Tiger can barely make out Kid’s face in the shadows, but it’s a lot clearer than he has seen before. He opens his mouth to ask just what it wants from him, but then the shadow raises a hand and pushes him. 

As he falls in his dream with a yelp, he wakes up before he hits the ground. 

The radio is on again, playing from his alarm clock, but it’s quiet this time. 

We have news that the accomplice’s name is Alphonso. If you find the man named Alphonso, please call-

“Okay.” Tiger sits up and rubs his face. “I get it.” 

He finds out that Alphonso is still in the city. He’s not close to the center anymore, more like in the slums. 

At first he was hard to find due to his height, but not hard to find due to his limp. Tiger almost feels bad scaring the shit out of him, stalking him to a bar and plopping down on the empty chair in front of him.

“Jesus, man!” Alphonso chokes out, he wipes his shirt down where he spilled his beer when Tiger unceremoniously interrupted him. “What is your problem? Seat’s taken!”

“You know this man?” He whips out the photo of Kid. 

The guy looks terrified, his face immediately pales.

“N-no. No, I don't know him,” he stutters and looks away, eyes rapidly looking for an exit. Tiger realizes that it’s probably not in his best interest to approach wanted criminals so aggressively. 

“Woah, wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry, relax, I’m not a cop or anything.” He opens his jacket to show he’s not packing and raises both his hands to appear harmless. “Look at me, I’m fucking white. I have a South African accent, I have no business with the Indian cops. I promise. I fucking promise.” 

Alphonso eyes him suspiciously. He takes a sip of what’s left from his beer, and squints, inspecting him for a good minute. His eyes scan his face. Then it’s like a light bulb goes off in his head, and he points a finger at Tiger, as a smile begins to stretch across his face. “Hey, I remember you now. You run the tequila fight club! You’re Tiger!”

Tiger blinks. “Yeah, that’s me. You been to my fights before?” 

“Been?” Alphonso laughs, his posture relaxes. “We robbed you for a good month. We worked together to have me win the bets in the fights he’s in. Wanted me to get him a promotion.” Alphonso smirks and then pats Tiger’s arm. “Sorry about that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you fuckers did that?” Tiger laments, although the news didn’t upset him as much as he thought it would. “Fucking hell, I should have never trusted that man.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that now, yeah?” Alphonso chuckles humorlessly. “How did you find me? What do you want from me?”

Tiger shrugs, because even he doesn’t know. So he just thinks of a bullshit reason. “Eh, he put on such a great show before he kicked the bucket. Wouldn’t be surprised if the cops got wind of a man in a monkey mask fighting in my club before the murders. Just wanted to ask around and see why he did that. I don’t want the cops sniffing around my door. I'll need info so I can make up a story to save my ass.”

Alphonso takes another sip of his beer, looking like he’s mulling over Tiger’s bullshit explanation. It must be acceptable, because he then reaches in his pocket, tossing an item onto the table towards him. Tiger looks down, picking it up carefully. It’s a name tag that says ‘Bobby’ on it, engraved on cheap metal. 

“Bobby. He was a new worker at Queenie’s,” Alphonso says, looking at the name tag in Tiger’s hand. “I should’ve known he was trouble. I had a feeling, you know? When I first saw him in the kitchen.”

“Yep. Trouble, always a troublemaker. Definitely was a pain in my ass.” Tiger scowls.

“You know, he put me through hell. That fucker was an awful worker. Idiot doesn’t know how to pour wine! He was always late too.” The words are nasty but he says it with a laugh and fondness. “Should have seen him. He was kind of lame looking, I wouldn’t think he had it in him to do something like that.”

“Did you have any idea why he did it…or…?”

Alphonso thinks, then shakes his head. “Nah, I think he was into that philosophical shit. I gave him a ride once and he was quiet the whole time, then he said some weird deep shit. Funny guy.”

Tiger didn’t know that about Kid, but then again, he’s never really talked to Kid before. He assumed that guy was quiet because he was kind of empty in the head, only focused on fighting. 

“Yeah, super funny. Hey, you know when he’s angry, his eyes light up? He goes crazy. Motherfucker was crazy. He stole my car and he looked like an animal. But his eyes were shining.” Alphonso chuckles at the memory.

A car, huh.

“Are these yours then?” He fishes out the keys, throwing them to him. The man barely catches it, and his eyes widen when he sees what they are. At first he looks upset, but then he laughs. 

“Where’d you get these, motherfucker?” He inspects them in his hand, a wistful look on his face.

“Kid had them. Found them in his locker.”

Alphonso chuckles then pockets the keys. Tiger gestures to the name tag in his hand. “You want this back?” 

“Nah. No use for it. It’ll be better if I can finally ditch it.” 

Tiger puts the name tag in his pocket. 

“Gonna take your car out for a spin again?”

“Can’t say I can drive it anymore. Here.” Alphonso lifts his glass. “Drink with me, I’ll tell you more about Bobby.”

There’s that shadow again. It’s still loitering in the corner of his eye, his straight nose silhouetted in the street lights outside the window of his dark bedroom. 

He sits up and runs over, but it quickly disappears. The TV turns on suddenly, it’s news of the assassination as usual, but the reporter is interviewing a lady he’s never seen before, maybe a new witness. 

And when you escaped, did you manage to see the killer?

I did. I saw him a lot when I was working in the kitchen. 

Did you ever talk to him?

Not me. I saw him speak with one of our workers before. 

The interviewer holds up a photo. It features a beautiful Indian lady on it. 

This is her? She is the one who is wanted for killing Queenie.

Yes they were-

Then the TV turns off. 

“Seriously? Again?” Tiger whisper-yells angrily. Nothing answers him back. 

He finds the escort that killed Queenie in the outskirts of town. It wasn't as far as where he found Alphonso though. She went the route of hiding in plain sight apparently. He walks up to the building where the locals pointed him to. It’s a run-down building, people meandering on their balconies looking down at him. Seems like one of those tight-knit communities and he notices they’re almost all women. He goes to Apartment 23 and knocks.

The same beautiful woman from the photo opens the door, chain still in place, peering at him through the crack. 

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. Can I uh, speak with you about someone?” He pauses. “I swear, I’m not with the cops. I promise you, you can stab me if I am.” He does the same thing - flashes the inside of his suit jacket and puts his hands in the air. “I, uh, think I know someone you know. I just want to talk about him.”

She eyes him with distrust but closes the door and he hears the chain slide out of its lock. She steps out with a hand on her hip. She’s smaller than Tiger but she’s sizing him up with an intense look on her face. 

“Who,” She demands.

“Oh, um, this guy. You know him?” He holds up the photo that’s beginning to crease more than before. 

The woman's eyes go soft. She stares at the photo, not saying a word and not moving. 

Tiger clears his throat. “Is that a yes?”

She looks up and nods at him, turning to go back into her apartment, but leaves the door open as an invitation. The apartment is small but tastefully decorated to hide the shittiness of the building, clearly the people living here have good tastes. 

Her name is Sita, she tells him with no other introduction. His name is Tiger, he says in return, mentioning he was the man’s employer. Tiger has a feeling it’s not her real name, not like Tiger is his either. She doesn’t introduce him to the other girls in the apartment, simply says they were her coworkers that escaped with her. 

“His name was Bobby. At least to me he was,” she opens the conversation, serving chai to him and pouring a cup for herself. “He worked as a waiter at Kings for a few months before…well, before he died.” 

“What was he like?” 

“Why are you asking me, weren’t you his boss?” She teases, a little meanly. “He was nice. Maybe too soft to work there. I couldn’t talk to him much. But I could tell he had a big heart, too big for his body.” 

She takes a sip, making a slight hiss as the tea burns her tongue. Tiger takes the hint and blows on his cup before taking a sip himself. 

She really is a very beautiful woman, insanely gorgeous and he wonders if Kid found her beauty just as captivating as he does. 

“Did you know what he was going to do at all? He ever tell you about his plans?” 

Sita thinks for a moment, a faraway look on her face. “No, he never told me. But have you seen those eyes? He’s bad at hiding things. They have this shine when he wants to cry. Like I said, his heart was too big. I think maybe it was a very important reason, but I didn’t ask.”

A wail cuts through the apartment. 

She sighs as she moves into another room briefly, coming back with an actual baby in her arms. She begins nursing it. Tiger eyes it, the question burning on the tip of his tongue. Sita, he realized in their brief discussions, is a very smart woman because she calls him out on it. 

“No, not his. We were never like that.” She smirks. Then stands up and tucks herself away as the baby coos in satisfaction. “Follow me.” 

Tiger scrambles up and follows her into a small kitchen. One of her roommates bows her head slightly in greeting and exits to give them space. The pots and pans are well-used, well cared for. There’s the smell of something fresh in the air, and the familiar smell of recently cooked oil. Spices line the counter space neatly labeled with tape and pretty handwriting. Dishware, all adorable and elegant in design, but chipped around the edges are in the sink. Barely any grime on them. 

Sita moves to a corner in the kitchen, and Tiger stares. 

There’s a very small shelf and he can tell it’s a shrine of some sort. There’s a few ceramic birds and tea candles on each side. 

“I didn’t know him well. Probably not like you did. But he saved me that day,” she says. “I will never forget the blood on my face, on my hands. But I knew at that moment it was the right thing to do. To finally be free.” She cradles the baby, it seems to go to sleep quickly. Tiger thinks she’s going to be an amazing mom. 

“Um, what’s with the birds?”

“Maybe I do know more about him than you do.” She laughs quietly, “Those are koels. He told me he heard them singing because he grew up in the forest.” 

“Oh, I didn't know that.” He awkwardly looks away from Sita who's clearly amused by him. “But um, I think this was for you. From him.” He gives her the pacifier. 

Her eyes immediately water, and she gazes at it for a second before she reaches up on her tippy-toes, and gently places it next to the koels. 

“I guess he overheard…” She pauses and sighs. “I guess he found out I never saw the doctor.”

They both don’t say a word and just gaze at the shrine in silence. 

It’s when the baby makes a noise when Tiger snaps out of his trance. 

“Ah.” He clears his throat. “I should get going. Thanks for the tea, and uh, thanks for talking to me.”

“Of course,” she says and leads him back to the main room. She pauses, gently patting the baby on its back. “Wait here a moment, Tiger.” She heads into what he assumes is the bedroom without looking back for a confirmation. 

He waits for a few minutes, then she’s back, no baby, but something in her fist. 

“Here.” She gestures for him to extend his hand out. He does. She places a crudely made and used bottle rocket in his open palm. 

“This was his from that night,” is all she says. “Take it.”

“Oh.” Tiger swallows. “Thank you.”

“I guess I should finally ask, but why are you here, what brought you here?” Sita asks, curiosity painted all over her face. But when Tiger doesn’t answer, she seems to know anyways. “He's still on your mind, isn’t he? Is the death of him holding you hostage?” 

He doesn’t want to be vulnerable to her, but something about her just breaks his walls. It’s those large eyes, calculating, sharp, and maybe it’s because now he feels like he owes her something for the piece of Kid she just gave him. 

“Yeah, always,” Tiger confesses, “I can’t escape.” And Sita smiles sadly. 

Tiger has never subscribed to a single newspaper in all his life. But when he opens his door in the morning to go to work, after missing a whole month due to chasing these people around, he almost screams at seeing a newspaper on his doorstep. 

It’s not even for today.

Tiger almost wants to throw it in a fire, but he knows that it’ll just show up again somehow. 

He sighs and decides he’ll have to call in and get another promoter to fill in for him again. God, he’s going to be in the negatives for a while.

Lately his apartment has this heavy air to it, like a gas leak that’s about to blow up. An end to a beginning he never knew had started. He’s been having trouble sleeping, unable to focus on work, and is weary of any shadows. But, nonetheless, with no other place to go, he goes in and sits to read the paper with some eggs he cooked up. 

It was an old article about a group of hijras outside of the city, in their own temple worshiping Ardhanarishvara. It wasn’t a flattering article, Tiger can see there’s a layer of distaste and judgment in each word. Tiger never gave the hijras much thought, he never discriminated in general as long as people had rupees to spend at his fight club. 

The article highlighted the person they believed is the leader of the group - Alpha. Tiger looks at the black and white picture of someone that certainly looks like a leader. Even from the crappy photo, Tiger sees someone with kindness in their eyes, yet a fire that a normal person wouldn’t have. He continues to read the article and it mentions that the group had a plethora of members that were once in the military. That explains it. He looks at the photo again, chin resting on his hand. The table begins to rumble as he gazes at the photo. Like a cat purring in approval. 

Tiger sighs, throwing the newspaper on the table harshly. Temples are not common in the city, in fact they’re not even visible beyond the horizon. If anything, ironically, Tiger’s Temple is probably the closest one. It’s going to be a long trip.

“Saved the best for last, didn’t ya, ya cheeky fucker?” he says to nobody. The table shakes again. “Shit, fine, fine. This is the last one, I swear to God.” 

He packs his shit in a small backpack and calls a taxi. 

Everyone eyes him with distrust as he calls out for someone in the temple, he steps into the courtyard where a few people are staring at him. He’s used to it at this point. A white man in India is never to be trusted. 

“Hello? Is Alpha here? I just want to talk to her.” They all stare him down, he shrinks in on himself, absolutely not planning to get beat up today. “Uh, if she's available? It’ll be quick.”

“That’s me.” A soft voice comes from within a room in the temple. Someone steps out of the shadows, it’s Alpha. She looks just as regal as the photo, only more tired if anything. 

He holds up Kid's photo again, maybe, hopefully, for the last time. “Do you know this guy?”

“Oh. That is Kid.” Alpha looks fondly at the photo, walking over to Tiger and plucking it from between his fingers. There was a moment where Tiger wanted to hold onto it, but it was a strange moment of attachment he didn’t think he’d have to a shitty photo. 

Alpha smiles as she looks upon the photo, tracing a finger over the lines of Kid’s face. 

Tiger looks at her hopefully. “You know him? Kid? I talked to a few people about him. I think his name is Bobby, actually.”

Alpha smiles at him, returning the photo. “I believe neither of those are true. Think about it, what Indian man born in the deep forest is named Bobby or Kid?”

Tiger ducks his head and blushes in embarrassment. Of course he’s an idiot, not a great first impression for Alpha. 

“You’re right. Sorry,” Tiger says, humbling himself in hopes his slip-up isn’t too damning on his ignorance. 

There’s a chuckle, then Alpha waves him into the temple. Tiger follows her. 

“Uh, you don’t want to ask if I’m a cop or anything? I mean, I’m flattered, but-”

“No cop would come here. They’re scared of us,” Alpha says and gestures to a pillow on the ground. Tiger sits down on it as Alpha takes a seat on the one across from him. He looks around his surroundings, and pauses to look in awe at the large statue of what he assumes is Ardhanarishvara. 

“Ah, you’re looking upon them just like Kid did.”

“He was here?”

“Yes, he rested right where you are.” She points at where he’s sitting. Unable to help himself, Tiger quickly looks around him in a circle, like he’s trying to find any trace of Kid on the floor. 

“He stayed with us while healing from his bullet wounds,” Alpha continues, then points to the courtyard, Tiger turns and sees a dangling burlap punching bag hanging on rafters. “He trained here as well. For his purpose.” 

“What was it? What was his purpose?” Tiger turns back to look at Alpha.

Alpha gazes at him, with a little pity and a little judgment. It makes Tiger feel ashamed that he doesn't know. “To have closure to the past he was haunted by. A mother’s death. A village on fire. To find himself again.” Alpha tilts her head. “Do you not know about Kid? Who are you?”

Not anybody good, Tiger thinks. He then swallows a lump in his throat, and he opens his mouth to lie. Pure instinct. But a hard flick to the back of his head makes him flinch. Alpha looks a little alarmed when he jerks forward with a loud “Ow!”.

He rubs the back of his head, then recovers quickly, but not before throwing a dirty glare somewhere over his shoulder.

“Ah, sorry about that, I’m…I’m Tiger. Don’t know if Kid talked about me.” 

Alpha finally looks less friendly than usual, a dark look on her face, and Tiger just knows there were no good stories told about him to these people. Maybe he’s the most corrupt person to step into their holy soil. 

“Hm,” Alpha hums then sighs, she drops her head down for a moment before taking in a deep breath. “Yes. I know you.” 

“Not good things…I’m assuming,” Tiger chuckles uncomfortably. 

“No, not good things. But also some good,” Alpha says cryptically. “His eyes did shine when he spoke of you. Like a shine filled with happiness for some reason.” She then holds out her hands for Tiger to take. He hesitates at first, but puts his hands in Alpha’s. 

“There’s a shadow with you. I think I know who. Have you come here with a purpose? Are you here to find closure to the questions on your mind?”

Tiger thinks about it for a second, he wishes he knows his purpose for all of this. Always blinded by money and greed, never really giving thoughts to others, doing things for others is strange to him. So why is he here? Just because a ghost has been harassing him? Or is the heavy feeling in his gut - a feeling he hasn’t felt since his wife left him - something to do with it?

“Guilt,” Alpha finishes for him, like she was reading his mind. Tiger nods numbly. “Ghosts don’t speak, but they can move you all the same. Powerful things.” 

“I don’t know why it was me in the end.”

“I do not know myself, but everything he does has a reason. It’s for you to figure out why,” Alpha says. 

She stands up, brushing dirt off her skirt and leads Tiger to another room. Tiger grabs his backpack and follows. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the largest, most majestic tree he has ever seen in his life. Candles are carefully placed in a beautiful pattern, its branches reaching towards the heavens. He almost feels unworthy to gaze upon it. 

“He became a changed man here,” Alpha says and kneels down to unearth something. It’s a seed of some sort. “This is a drug to help one face their demons.”

“Uh…” Tiger suddenly feels nervous. “I haven’t done anything like that in a long-”

Alpha laughs, cutting him off, “No, I’m not giving you this. Only broken men need this.” She then kneels again and plucks an empty shell from the ground. 

“This is what held your Kid’s acceptance to move on from everything he blamed himself for.” Alpha holds it towards him. “Take it. For us it's just an empty reminder of someone lost. But I think…it’s better with you.”

Tiger’s heart skips at hearing “your Kid’s”. And he almost doesn’t want to take the shell. He’s already carrying the other burdens of others in his pockets, the parts of Kid they’re letting go to move on. All small items but they hold so much that he doesn’t understand - that he never knew about the man who bled for him.  

But another flick to the back of his head and another “Ow!” makes him reconsider. Alpha doesn’t seem alarmed this time, just amused. He reluctantly takes the shell and puts it in his pocket.

“Stay for a while. Just as he did.”

Tiger doesn't argue. At the wave of Alpha’s hands, he sees her chipped nail polish, it looks like they haven’t been painted in a long time. 

“Kid had this in his locker. I think it’s for you,” Tiger says, taking the third item out of his pocket. The cigarettes are still heavy for some reason. 

Alpha immediately smiles then laughs. “That bad?” She looks at her nails. Then takes the nail polish from Tiger, making an approving sound. “It's a very good color. He was a good man.”

Tiger’s sitting in the temple three weeks later, legs crossed, gazing into the courtyard at the punching bag with candles around it, a stack of folded white clothes, and a child’s backpack. 

It was then he realized - and he wonders why he didn’t think this before - why Kid is haunting him.

He was probably Kid’s first kiss. 

It wasn’t the mat on the cold, hard temple floor that kept him awake. It’s the fact that it’s 2 AM and his stupid brain decides to filter through memories of Kid. 

The first memory was when the skinny man, drenched from the rain, begged for a spot on his roster. He barely made the cut-offs after the trial, but Tiger felt bad for him and let him in. He did warn him he had to be a jobber, a heel though. The man agreed, nodding violently. He must be desperate, Tiger thinks. 

Then he remembers the time Kid broke his hand and didn’t tell Tiger and that was a disaster.

Then he remembers that night he saw Kid change into a black suit, black dress shirt after his fight and Tiger said 'you look like you're going to a funeral' and didn't realize that he was. His own.

And then-

Tiger almost wants to forget this particular memory, something he locked away a long, long time ago. But he can’t, not with Kid torturing him everyday for the past two months. So he closes his eyes and just lets it leak through the dam he’s built around it. Let the memory, like water, flow out. 

It’s winter. Kind of cold but not too bad, no need for a jacket. He’s outside plucking a cigarette from the box when Kid walks up to him. 

“I paid you already,” Tiger says, he pats his pockets for his lighter. 

“I know,” Kid says then leans against the wall next to him. He lightly hits his head against the bricks as he closes his eyes. He’s clearly exhausted, a little beaten up from the day, his lip has split and the blood is already drying.

“Hm.” Tiger decides he doesn’t want to push it. Maybe Kid just wants some company tonight. Tiger shrugs and lets him chill there, he needs this cigarette badly anyways. He finally finds his lighter and lights it.

They don’t talk to each other, just Tiger smoking and Kid almost taking a nap standing up. Or is he dead? For a second Tiger feared that he was, but then he saw his chest falling up and down in a steady motion. Kid opens his eyes after a while and turns his head in Tiger’s direction. He stares. 

He always stares. It unnerves Tiger sometimes, but something about this one is kind of cute, maybe cause he’s eyeing Tiger’s cigarette. 

“Want a drag?” Tiger offers. 

“You like that stuff?”

“Well, only if it’s this brand,” Tiger says and waves the box at Kid. Kid looks at it intensely. “So you want?” Tiger offers again. 

Kid hesitates, still staring at the box, then at the cigarette curiously, then nods. Tiger doesn’t know why he didn’t just hand it to him, but instead he twirls it in his finger all fancy and shit - Kid looks amazed by the small trick - and points the filter at him. 

Kid’s eyes flicker up to his, they’re twinkling which is rare to see. Tiger is glad Kid gets the hint and doesn’t make a comment about the invitation that is less-platonic than most will offer. He watches as Kid leans down and wraps his lips around the filter and takes a drag. Tiger shouldn’t think anything of it, but it’s quite a sight, and his heart begins to beat faster. He can’t help the hitch of his breath when those lips brush against the tip of his finger.

A part of him is disappointed how quick it happens because Kid then pulls back and immediately starts coughing violently. He staggers a bit as he leans back up against the wall. Tiger laughs, pulling his hand back and continues to smoke, not ignoring the fact that they've shared the same cigarette.

“First time?”

“Yeah,” Kid coughs out, eyes now filled with tears that start to pool at the corners. Then as he collects himself, he also lets out a breathy laugh. It’s beautiful. He looks directly at Tiger, eyes shaped like moons in a smile, laugh lines prominent, something Tiger has never seen before. 

Tiger smiles back- he can't help it. Then, in all his boldness, in all his idiotic tendencies, and his selfish, greedy personality. Leans forward to kiss that split lip. 

He thinks he's going to be punched for this, but he’s wrong, unless lips pressing harder into his counts as one. 

It’s not brief, Kid begins to open his mouth shyly, but doesn’t go as deep as tongues, and it ends when the fire of the cigarette starts to burn his finger. Tiger pulls away first. Kid’s eyes are still closed and his eyelashes wet with the tears from earlier. Kid exhales then looks at him with something that scares him. 

He clears his throat and smokes the rest of his cigarette, the taste of dried blood on his tongue, in silence with Kid resting by his side.

Tiger runs away after that like a coward. He should have stayed and figured this shit out, but he didn’t. After that, he decided to ignore the whole thing, unsure of what that look Kid gave him meant. 

So in classic Tiger fashion, he never gave Kid the time of day. Never paid him right. Never had him win. Never went beyond employee and employer. As if Kid was just a number in his books, a body to make him money.

He’s a coward - he should have chased the taste of smoke on a split lip. But now he'll never see Kid again, a man with crooked teeth, a mean punch, and eyes deep as space that shine like stars.

Tiger sighs, it’s been a long two months. He has to get back to work and see the damage done in his absence. 

The sun is setting, a beautiful blue sky transitioning into a warm pink, the wind is blowing softly and he thinks he knows why Kid would stay at Alpha’s for so long, you don't get a view like this back in the city. He begins his journey back. He’ll walk for a bit, then take the bus at the stop he saw in the taxi over, then get back home. Back to the life he knows and will never leave. 

He walks along a tall brick wall. Who knows why it was built and what it is blocking. Maybe the people, like Alpha said, felt the hijras were that unsettling and found a way to separate them. A wall made of mud and clay. Made of the very earth they all are born from. 

Smoking is a long-lost habit, and he had sworn it off ever since that night. But as he takes out the carton of reds, still wrapped, he feels a little sad to break the seal and takes one out. He lights it. Takes a drag. Closes his eyes and leans against the wall.  

Finally smoking again, Tiger?  

A teasing whisper in his ear, brushing by like the wind. He’s not startled this time and he opens his eyes as he exhales, half expecting to see the shadow of the ghost he’s so familiar with, half expecting to see nothing. 

He tilts his head up to look at the sky. 

But there - in the corner of his eye. A movement. Curly, dark hair. Not a shadow, not a silhouette.

He immediately pushes himself off the wall and almost has a heart attack. There’s Kid. There he is - in the white clothes Alpha showed him. No longer folded in front of a rice sack, it’s loose on Kid’s body, flowing with the wind. He’s walking along the top of the wall, so calmly and smoothly like he knows he won’t fall. 

Or maybe he knows that if he did fall, Tiger would run up like a fool to try and catch a shadow. 

He’s right, Tiger is a fool. He runs after Kid, slowing to a walk to match the pace of the man. 

Everything is caught in his throat and he can’t speak. He just watches Kid in awe, in confusion, and in a heart wrenching pain. 

They don’t say anything, just letting the earth make music for them. 

Finally, after a koel chirps into the sky, flying above them, Kid stops walking and turns his head to Tiger, expectant. For once Tiger shouldn’t run. So he finally speaks. 

“Kid?” 

The ghost nods. 

“Uh, how…” Tiger barely feels the cigarette still burning between his fingers. “You…” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m…”

The man on the wall stares at him, nothing on his face that Tiger can read. He feels guilty knowing that if Alphonso, Sita, or Alpha were here, they would know what to say. They would know what Kid is thinking, even if Tiger knew this guy much longer than they had. 

But he has an inkling of a feeling why Kid appeared only to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” the ghost says, his voice like a blanket, covering Tiger in warmth. Then he sits down on the top of the wall, long legs dangling over the edge. He stares down at Tiger, those dark eyes almost golden in the sun. They're sparkling like they do when he’s angry - according to Alphonso, sad - according to Sita, or when he’s happy - according to Alpha.

Tiger thinks they’re shining for different reasons. 

“You did it. I didn’t think you could do it,” Kid teases and swings his legs slightly. 

“Yeah, I almost hired an exorcist to get you off my back. Put me through a lot, didn’t you?” Tiger banters back. 

Kid's eyes flick to the cigarette in his hand, the same curious expression as that night.

“You found it.”

Tiger huffs out a laugh, “Yeah.” He then holds it up and twirls it all fancy and shit, and Kid still has this amazed look on his face.

“That one was your favorite, right?”

“Yeah.” Tiger pauses, “I like the taste.” 

“Really?” Kid wrinkles his nose. “It was awful.”

“I don’t think it is.” Tiger takes a drag, remembering a bit of dried blood. “It’s nice. It tastes just like you.”

They fall into another silence, not charged with contempt like most of their encounters. 

“Don’t need to hire an exorcist now, do I?” Tiger says with a heavy feeling in his heart. 

Kid nods.

“Will I see…”

Kid shakes his head.

“Okay.” Tiger takes in a shaky breath, unable to contain the guilt anymore. “Then I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything and how I treated you. How I took something precious to you and treated you like shit every year afterwards. I’m sorry I never looked back at you all those times you looked at me. I think I knew - but I was scared. But that’s no excuse, I still don’t understand why I didn't just-”

“Tiger,” Kid laughs. Tiger looks up to him and wants to collapse to his knees and plead Kid to just strike him down and end it all. So that they can start over in whatever existence they will meet in the dark. 

“We can’t control things, especially our feelings and how our heart beats.” Kid shrugs, he stops swinging his legs. “It’s not like I wanted to like you. But I did. I forgive you.”

“I don’t think you should. I should’ve-”

“You’re right. I don’t forgive you for being a coward. You missed out. I think we could have been something,” Kid laughs again. Then he leans back on his hands and stares Tiger down with all that softness a mother, a lover, a child would when they see someone they love. “Your bus is here.” 

Tiger turns his head to look and there is a bus rolling up. He was almost afraid to turn back and Kid will be gone, but when he does, Kid is still there. The sky's the very image of heaven, framing him in all its glory, and he’s glowing in the light. His skin being kissed by the sun. He beams at Tiger, holding a lit cigarette in between those long fingers.

Tiger looks down at his own hand. There's no cigarette, but there's still the taste of smoke and Kid on his tongue.

“It still tastes bad,” Kid grimaces, taking a small drag and only managing a little cough this time. “But I guess that's why to me it tastes like you.”

“You fucker…I will fuckin-” Tiger can't finish his sentence because a pained laugh tumbles out of him, then he feels his eyes water.

“Don’t worry. I’ll always be with you,” Kid says, his curls dancing in the wind.

“Always? You better fucking promise,” Tiger says, almost yelling, no longer hiding the desperation and longing in his voice. Kid nods, then he mouths something-

The bus gives a loud honk. 

Tiger jumps and turns, the bus driver opens the door and gives him a quizzical look. 

“Hot day, huh?” he asks with a bit of concern. 

Tiger realizes he thinks he was talking to himself. He turns back to say goodbye, to say those three words back. And Kid is gone. 

He looks for a moment. 

Then he gets on the bus. Pays the fare.

He sits down in the back, and stares at that brick wall as it moves by endlessly.

He pats his pockets. 

The name tag, the bottle rocket, and the shell of a seed are still there.

But the pack of reds are gone. 

Instead his hand brushes against something new. 

He pulls it out - it's a cigarette, recently snuffed. There’s a name scrawled in ink along the stick.

Tiger scoffs and smiles. 

Just like “Kid”, the world is truly wondrous, mysterious…and beautiful.

.end.

Chapter Text

1. A Stare.

2. A Kiss.

3. A Ghost