Chapter Text
"there's a ghost in my lungs and it sighs in my sleep;
wraps itself around my tongue as it softly speaks"
- florence & the machine
Aira Shiratori flashed a warm smile back at her school colleagues. Through the loud music, she was still able to catch a few compliments thrown her way as she sneaked past everyone to get to the house party’s bathroom.
She placed her blue purse on the marble sink and watched her reflection stare back at herself in the mirror for a good thirty seconds, fixing an already perfectly placed hair strand, before a stray tear flooded her vision. Followed by another. And then another.
She cried until she sobbed, and she sobbed until she was on her knees, gasping for air; as if, maybe, if she cried painfully enough, she would stop feeling so lonely.
As if, maybe-
“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute”, a muffled familiar voice call from outside the door, immediately before the door opened forcefully, and a foot practically kicked her while she was down.
Two big, brown eyes searched the tiny bathroom before landing on her. She must’ve looked pathetic. Still, she couldn’t help but stare back at the tall figure. His gaze softened for a moment.
“…Aira?”
She doesn’t know how long they stayed like that. Just... watching each other, neither moving an inch. That was, until Jin Enjoji took a few steps back and Aira instantly shot up and closed the door on his face.
He responded by knocking on the door frantically. With her back towards it, Aira started to think of her options.
“Wait! Aira! Open up! What’s going on?”
A few more knocks on his end, but she wouldn’t answer. I mean, she couldn’t. Why was he here, of all people?
The knocks increased in volume, turning into something that sounded like a jackhammer, accompanied by a variant of pleas. The door moving against her back with its wooden pressure. And she was sure this was him holding back his strength, too.
“Come on, talk to me! Pleeease!”
Well, at least it wasn’t like it was Okarun who had seen her at that state. Or even worse yet- Momo Ayase. God, is there nowhere safe for a pretty girl to have herself a small, ugly, mental breakdown every now and then without being interrupted?
“At least let me pee, this is the only bathroom in the house, and I really reeeeally have to go, like really!” He finally shouted, in a full sentence.
And, okay, that she could sympathize with.
Her face to the mirror, Aira quickly un-smudged her mascara and put on a brave expression. She swung the door open with a stern warning:
“You don’t talk about this. Ever. Okay?”
Jiji brought his hands to his forehead in a salute and bolted to the toilet, while Aira thought up an escape route. She needed to get out of this party right now.
Step one: call a taxi on her phone.
Step two: realize that she left her phone and purse on the sink. Inside. With Enjoji.
Ugh. Fine, whatever. The loud noises from the party and even louder thoughts from her own mind were already giving her a headache.
Defeated, Aira sat on the floor with her arms wrapped around her legs, in front of the door and started picking at her knee-high socks. Waiting, she looked around the empty hallway. At least it was the very back end of the house and everybody else was gathered around the kitchen and living room, barely paying any attention to her.
People always stopped paying attention to her when she wasn’t looking pretty, anyways. Her dad always said that-
“So, what’s going on?”
Jiji’s loud voice startled her out of the internal monologue, as he plopped down to sit next to her. Crisscrossed apple sauce. One of her hands flew to her chest to calm down a rapid heartbeat. Was he trying to kill her?
“Didn’t- didn't you just promise not to talk about it?” Aira tried to whisper at first but had to speak at a normal volume due to all the music.
“Well, you never said what I had to promise not to ask about it. Just not talk about it.”
Stupid contraption. But to be fair, if she knew something about the boy sitting next to her by now, it was that he wasn’t good at simply letting things go.
(Funny how that was, considering what had recently just happened.)
Someone passed by them with haste and Aira sighed, sinking further into the cold marble floor. From the corner of her eye, she watched a Jiji’s hand moved to rest on her knee.
“You better have washed that before touching me,” she informed him, looking down at his hand in disgust. And she wasn’t joking, either.
But he wasn’t that easily scared off- Aira also knew that about him by now. So, he just laughed, while keeping that warm, and possibly germ-filled, hand pressed against her skin.
“Come on, Aira, whatever it is, you can tell me.” He gave her knee a small squeeze, almost enough to tickle. But she wasn’t quite in the mood for laughter. “I’m actually great at keeping secrets.”
Now that, that was hilarious. Aira let out an absent grin and a little bit of air out of her nose.
“You know, I find that hard to believe,” she taunted. “Considering just, what? Five minutes ago?”
“It’s true! You can tell me anything.”
As if she was going to tell him anything. How ridiculous.
“Is it about Okarun?” He tried asking, inching his head closer, with a taunting smile.
“What?! It's obviously not! I’m super over him already.”
Aira crossed her arms, for further punctuation. Jiji held up both hands in the air, in defense. As if she was pointing up Yokai powered hair at him.
“Okay, sorry. It’s just that since it was only two weeks ago, I thought that-"
“I SAID I’M OVER IT!”
This time, her powers did spike up. Just a little.
It is true that she didn’t really want Takakura that bad, after all was said and done. And she really did want the best for her friends – them dating officially was kind of cute and they did make a good couple. But a side of her couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, if she was being completely honest. A kind of jealously more directed at what they had. At having a feeling that sincere and… mutual. Which was maybe a bit worse - and more complex - than the bad feeling she could feel from straight up rejection or a stupid one-sided crush. She should feel happy for them if Takakura wasn't the problem. She should.
“Alright, alright, I believe you.” He said, simply. And it felt like he meant it, too.
(Which was weird. Because since when could he read her like that?)
Aira fixed her hair and paused. Abruptly very aware of how intently Jiji was watching her; and for some reason, it made her feel uneasy. Yet, comfortable at the same time.
“Well… It might be because I…” His eyes were unmoving, a high contrast for someone so usually hyperactive. “I might be feeling a little left out.”
Another random person walked by them, this time going into the bathroom. Closing the door behind them with enough force to break whatever hold Jiji had on her and that moment. Aira blinked once, then twice.
Then, in a swift movement, the red-headed boy stood up and held up a hand for her. An invitation on his grinning lips.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter, hm?”
The old tree house on the back porch probably hadn’t seen much action in decades, from what Aira could tell. What with all the cobwebs, and the spiders and all. It’s not like she minded that much.
It really was quieter over there, though he could still make out what popular song they were playing at the party, from the faint sounds reaching her ears, if she wanted to. Aira sat down with her leg crossed and let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
Jiji found an old cushion and was already making himself at home, before accidentally hitting his head on the clearly handmade windowsill. Seeing her standing up, he decided to extend the dusty cushion to her, in an all too sincere moment. And for some reason, that's all it took from him; Aira decided to tell him all about it, then.
About how she felt like she didn’t fit in with anyone anymore – her friends from school felt superficial, yet she didn’t feel like her new friends considered her as close of a friend as she did them. About how maybe she never truly fit in to begin with, but that now she couldn’t bring herself to pretend. About how she always felt like she was one step behind everyone, like an admirer from afar. About her fears of slowly turning into a monster. Of feeling like she was already unrecognizable from who she was. Of feeling like maybe she’d always sort of been a monster, all along.
She told him how much she missed her mother, and how much she feared she would one day forget her completely. She told him she feared she would someday end up like her dad, too absorbed into work to realize his daughter spends half her time fighting the supernatural.
And she even told him about what happened today, when he saw her old friends, hanging out without her. And how they looked so much better for it. Like her presence was bringing her down. Like she was always bringing everybody down.
Jiji, for his part, clearly did his best to listen. Even though it looked like it was taking everything in his power to hold himself back from interrupting. To the point where his cheeks were puffed, and he was practically turning red. She knew he wanted to weigh in, maybe even disagree, but she appreciated the effort it took for him not to, at that moment.
It felt like a dam, breaking loose. The feelings and thoughts and secrets she held to herself for so long. All of her, spilling out, along with her guts.
“…and, you know, maybe this I why I never even had a first kiss, because why would I subject anyone to-"
“OKAY! PAUSE!” Jiji finally screamed, rising to his knees and grabbing both her shoulders. “This is a spiral! You’re going down a spiral!”
Okay, yeah. Maybe. But also, maybe he was over-exaggerating with the response, no?
She decided on not answering him, though. Suddenly, having found that her throat felt oddly hoarse.
“Come on,” he continued. “Why would you even think all that?”
Jiji, then, gave her shoulders a shake and inched closer towards her space. Big brown eyes staring into hers with a mixture of intent and zealousness that Aira had seldom seen before. At least, not so up-close. Not with pupils swaying from side to side in the most miniscule of movements. Not with breathing intensely making someone’s chest go up and down and up and down again.
Her eyes moved from his chest to the pulsing artery on his neck, then to his parting lips. That mouth closed, then opened up again. There was an inexplicably weird shiver sent down Aira’s spine.
It vaguely registered on the girl’s mind that she hadn’t said anything in a long time. But then again, neither had Jiji.
When Aira finally (finally) drew in a breath, not even sure of what she was about to say, they heard it:
A long shriek coming from inside the house.
And then, the unmistakable sound of rubble and pending, paranormal destruction.