Work Text:
At night, every color reached its true hue.
In this town, the sky was the best attraction one could see.
The millions of shimmering stars, seemingly endless in quantity, reminded him of how he used to feel long ago. He once believed they were shining as to show how everything was possible — each of them represented a possibility he could reach; the moon was just a spaceship away. And yet, at one point in time, the hopeful boy was no more. The sight of these far away bodies of fire also reminded him of all he lost.
Hanako sat there, on the roof of the school's main building, seemingly staring at the sky, but looking at nothing in particular.
He had, up until then, experienced plenty of nights like this one. Quiet, dark, chilly. Lonely. Nights spent looking at the changes above. None of this was new.
From all his time at Kamome Academy, he'd seen all sorts of colors. But the purplish blue one, mixed with the intense orange of a rising or setting sun, was his personal favorite. He could stare at it for hours — and he had, many times. Again, nothing about this night was different from the others. Nothing new.
Sometimes, nightgazing was his only source of entertainment, the only thing keeping him at bay from actively thinking about the meaning of his ‘life’. But tonight, the thoughts were unable to stop flowing. The dam was not strong enough.
From the corner of his left eye, he noticed something behind the wall.
He sighed, and without turning around, Hanako called out the spirit that had been observing him for a while.
“ Hey, Number Three.”
The figure jolted. Could he sense his presence thanks to his abilities as the almighty boss of the Seven Mysteries, or was it that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought?
“You’re stupidly bad at spying, y’know ? Anyone with enough awareness of their surroundings could feel your stares,” Hanako throws behind him, as if he read the mind of the Supernatural.
“H-hey !” is all the spirit could say, a bit disappointed that he was at fault for his discovery, but unable to refute anything. Hesitantly, he stepped out from behind the wall he was hiding, and marched slowly towards Hanako. Mitsuba was always wary of him, especially since he hasn’t been bothered by his presence as of late. It could all be a ploy to do something crazy later !
“What were you even doing there anyway?”
“Me? I-I was..”
Mitsuba did not want to stay with the terror-inducing being that was Tsukasa-kun. Frankly, he usually never craved his company, but on most nights, Sakura-san and Natsuhiko-senpai stayed late enough for him to escape Tsukasa by pretending to see them out safely out of the gates and not returning to the broadcasting room after.
But uncharacteristically enough, they both left the premises as soon as the last bell had rang — together, no later than four thirty in the afternoon. “Sorry, Mitsuba-chan ! We have some matters to take care of,” Natsuhiko had told him, but Mitsuba’s intuition did not agree. They must have had a date planned, and his senior didn’t want him to feel betrayed.
With this leaving him unprepared, he had to make up a quick excuse when the other boy noticed he was urgently eyeing the doors. “Oh, I'm just looking at how pretty this wood is,” he spat out, and for the several hours that followed, wandered around the room, pretending to be interested in the craftsmanship of times that preceded his lifetime. Perhaps even Tsukasa’s.
Once his courage had finally been mustered up, he took a deep breath and quickly exited the room. He did not possess the ability to go through walls — that would have been helpful, for sure — so the echo of the closing door resonated deep within the dark and empty hallway.
Mitsuba couldn’t believe what he had just done. Convinced the wish-granting brat would come out any second to look for him, Mistuba stayed in front of the door, shaking in fear. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds had passed, and still no sight of him. What ? Was he preparing a prank ? He peaked through a small gap he had unconsciously left, and he saw him playing with a train of some sort, with a look that contradicted his actions. Ah, so that’s what it was. Tsukasa-kun had lost interest in him long ago.
Now liberated, he walked empty-mindedly in the hallway. It hadn’t occurred to him what to do after he left the broadcasting room.
The faint yellow of the moon shone dimly, turning blue against the wood. It was weird, and the color of the passage gave a feeling of gloom. He was sure that if he had footsteps, hearing them would make everything creepier. In a way, the fact that he couldn’t hear himself walk spooked the pink-haired spirit even more. As the quiet of a place drained from any sort of life settled in, he wandered around, looking at familiar spots in a new facet. Misaki’s stairs, Haruhiko’s Kitchen, The 4pm Bookstacks — even the Girls’ Bathroom on the second floor — no one was here; not even the Mokke.
And soon, he ended up on the rooftop, where shortly after Hanako came. He reflexively hid behind the wall of the entrance — Hanako and his brother Tsukasa often warranted the same response, he found them both so scary.
“I was taking fresh air!” Mitsuba declared, in a loud way that betrayed his intention. It was true, in a way, but that reason was way better than saying he wanted to run away from his twin brother that he couldn’t tolerate unless there was another person with him.
“Mmm.”
It was clear that whatever he just said was dismissed as a desperate answer. But it could also be that Hanako did not care much, and only asked about it because of the strange situation.
Sitting on the border of the rooftop, beyond the old iron fence, the boy in the old-fashioned uniform stared at the city below.
And for a time that felt like a long, tiring day, there was nothing said.
“Do you know what it means to dream?”
“Huh ?”
This prompted Number Three out of his city-watching. He looked at the other boy, puzzled. “Of course I do!” He quickly responded, feeling somewhat offended by this harmless question. Why did it seem like he was having his intelligence tested ?
“I’m listening.”
“Well…Dreaming is…it’s…”
He put a finger on his chin to think, but the answer wasn’t coming to him. Well, he knew, he definitely did ! But how to explain ? It was always at times like these that words failed to escape one’s mouth.
“And here I thought you'd enlighten me with your sage knowledge.”
Hanako’s snarky comment cemented the diminished feeling Mitsuba had. In other words, he felt like an idiot.
“...then…Have you ever dreamed of being alive?” He suggested next.
Expressing his surprise louder than he intended to do, Mitsuba covered his mouth with his hand, confused, while leaning away from the other supernatural.
“W-What kind of question is that ?”
And he wasn’t just asking that because he was taken aback and needed time to formulate an answer. Mitsuba found the question really strange. First, because it came from Number Seven, and second, because it came from Number Seven and they weren’t close with each other — if to say they barely exchanged words directly. But aside from it being strange, the pink haired boy found the question also really twisted. If at first what he asked seemed nonsensical, with a little more thought, it was…
“Really hard to say, isn’t it.”
The words that completed his thoughts didn't come from his mouth.
There was a small breeze, and Mistuba, at the other side of the fence and safe from the border, could briefly see the eyes of Hanako before his hair strands, moving with the wind, covered up the visible side of his face again.
He’d seen the look somewhere…but he couldn’t quite describe it. Something that transcended regret, but was not too close to despair.
“I mean, what are we playing at here ? Hanging out with humans truly rewired our minds.”
Then again, did ghosts even have brains ? Did ghosts even have anything ?
They had no pulse. No heart to beat.
This question didn’t have any purpose.
Even Hanako himself had no idea what he hoped to achieve with it.
He was overwhelmed with his feelings. Too many of them, especially this negative, this pitiful, would be sure to turn him into a bad spirit if he continued to dwell on them. But he could not bring himself to stop. The more he forced himself to, the harsher they became, the more they overtook him.
Perhaps the only solution was to pour them out onto the world. Number Three just happened to be there, and he just happened to be able to listen and reply. In a way, he was glad. I don’t think talking to the moon would have cut it tonight.
“For humans, dreaming is to look forward to something in a near or distant future. Dreaming…dreaming is also whatever happens in the brain when one sleeps. We…”
Feeling his throat block up, and hearing his voice slightly crack,
Hanako brought his legs close to his torso, put his arms on his knees like a pillow, and rested his chin on them. He was already aware of this fact. But to say it outloud created something invisible yet tangible to him. What a heavy feeling. This is hard…
“We aren’t able to. We have no future. And… He was hesitant to continue, We don’t really have ‘brains’; we cannot sleep. Only pretend. Therefore, we aren’t able to dream. ‘Dreaming’ is inherently human. To dream is to live.”
Mitsuba was at a loss for words. He had no idea what to tell the other. Well, what could he say ? What could one try to do in such a moment, where even silence could be treated as a response ? It felt like the little space between them, marked by the iron bars, suddenly widened. Mitsuba didn’t have it in him to extend his arm and pat him on the back. Mystery Number seven seemed unreachable.
After the noise was carried by the wind,
The dark haired boy got up and stretched, before floating back to the entrance of the rooftop. He pointed to a tower on the second old building.
“You see that ? I almost fell off the roof of that tower. The kid tried to save me. He grabbed my hand, but I slipped. You know what I said right after ? ‘I thought I was going to die!’. It's absurd. I'm already dead. There's no dying twice,” Hanako laughed bitterly, before coming in front of Mitsuba.
The taller boy hid behind his scarf reflexively. The ghost’s big eyes were full of that emotion Mitsuba failed to describe just minutes ago. He could even see an odd glow to them — the effects of tears unable to flow out.
“I guess being around those two made me want to be human again.” it was said defeatedly, like a confession to crime.
Those two…Hanako was referring to Radish-senpai and Minamoto-kun. They were some of the only humans they could interact with, without their interaction being mischievous. They could openly hang out and joke, so much that Mitsuba also would forget ever being dead for a moment. It was only when the sun had set, that the sky had turned dark and that there was no sound in the hallways that he — and Number Seven, surely — was reminded of their forlorn days. In His case, he was just a copy of the original ghost of Mitsuba Sousuke. He just bared his name, his face, his mannerisms. But his memories ? He didn't have any…so could he really say he regretted the days when he was human, when he had never experienced it for himself ?
“…There’s nothing like mourning what you could have had.”
As he said this, Mitsuba finally understood.
He’d seen this look in a human's eyes — Minamoto-kun’s eyes. Every time he looked at him, and their eyes happened to meet, the student would always look at the supernatural with such sorrow. But now he knew that it was grief. Minamoto-kun, in his own way, was grieving the fact that he failed to know Mitsuba — the real Mitsuba sousuke — as a human, when he was still alive. He was grieving the fact that he could only stay with this resemblance, and that the resemblance didn’t even have any of the previous one’s memories. Unable to replace him, or ease the living boy’s heart ever so slightly, he served as a painful reminder of what had never been. Mitsuba as he was right now was a new person with an old face.
He’d also seen that look in Tsukasa-kun’s. Maybe it was because they were twins ? But they were so similar despite being so different…
Hanako was smiling in sadness. He didn’t know much, but the original Mitsuba was a kid of the same age as him who abruptly died, wasn’t he ? So in a sense, if there is really a little bit of him still left inside the current Mitsuba, it would make sense that he could say something like this. He was mourning the youth he never got to fully experience, and he was mourning the future he could have had. They both were, but one had it harder.
“You wouldn’t understand. Losing all feeling yet knowing what it feels like.
I miss being able to feel sick, to feel tired, to feel hungry. I miss being able to feel the weather, hot or cold, rather than guessing by the color of the atmosphere. I miss being able to taste food, even bad food. I can fake eating, but nothing goes down, no warmth can go into my stomach. I miss all of those things, even a heartbeat I never noticed until I was dead. I don’t even fully remember my past life.”
Mitsuba frowned. He never paid attention, but he posessed the ability to do all these things — these very human things — so naturally, it hadn’t occurred to him that he was a special case.
Unlike all the other Mysteries, he was not bound to the school yet, so he could go out, eat, even sleep; but he was invisible to ordinary people. Normally, he should feel glad. He should feel proud that he could execute things outside of even the Leader’s capabilities. Yet, he looked all past those as all he felt in the moment was frustration.
“At least you know !” He shouted, his anger manifesting plainly. “At least you can remember. But I've never been human,” Mitsuba started, sitting down on the old concrete next to Hanako. “So I don't know how it feels to truly be one. I can imitate them, but no one can see me. No matter how much I try, I can’t seem to just get it right ! There’s always something…” sniffling ungracefully, he lamented while wiping his tears with his left hand; his only hand.
Hanako looked at him, neither shocked nor angry, and stooped down to the ground. He looked back at the sky briefly, and noted that the hue had changed. Time passed without him realizing it.
The two School Mysteries sat next to each other, on a supposedly cold night that neither could feel the temperature of, and on an old concrete that they guessed could have been cold as well.
“I can judge myself based on what Minamoto-kun tells me, only to see the disappointment in his eyes when I act differently from what must have been the real me. Then I feel something, a sting, a thug in my heart. But can I really say I don’t expect it ? I brace myself everytime, but…”
“It hurts the same.”
The pink-haired boy throws a look at Hanako that the latter could only describe as the look of a stray pup that has found someone willing to take care of him. His tears doubled.
“When I think about it, it’s all so weird. E-Everything I do is so human-like. But I'm a supernatural. I’m confused for real ! waaaaah …!”
In a low voice, the leader declared,
“Just like you, I find it so strange. Sure, maybe, I was once human. But I aren’t anymore. I can’t keep acting like I do. It will eventually hurt them both… But I am so selfish. I don’t wanna stop. I want to be with them.”
“…I understand ! I totally do ! Reality is so hard, that's why you wanted to live in Number Four's world forever ! Me too…I wanted to stay there forever…”
This statement felt like a stab to the short boy. There was no way to deny it, yet he really wanted to; a dense spirit like him could see through his intentions, and that was almost an insult. But all he could do was hide his face in his arms, admitting defeat. It took everything he had to not let out a sound of weakness escape his lips. The sobs he made could easily be mistaken for a laugh, were they not so quiet.
“But is it so bad to want a life like that ?” The so-called ‘dense spirit’ asked, trying to be confident. “We can pretend. You don’t have to think so much about how you do what you do, or what you used to do, or what you could have done. I don’t think it matters when you can’t change it.”
Sure, Mitsuba couldn’t dream, nor could Hanako, but they were both human in some way or form before, so was it so bad to act like one or to be like one ? Hanako was treating all this like some type of sin, but it was just his nature.
“Yeah, we aren’t alive. But so what ? We’re still human. We don't have to have a physical body, we can be so in spirit. That's the difference between us and the lower intelligence Supernatuals. Think of it as like, changing forms, activating a greater power or something !”
The twin lifted his head, confused. Mitsuba stared at him, his pupils straight into his.
They were teary, yet bold. As if he was really believing what he was saying.
Hanako scoffed.
I don't want to pretend. I miss it being real.
“Look, I don’t care if you hate me or whatever. I’m just saying. I don’t think Radish-Senpai would want you to ruin her mood next time you meet, see ?”
He couldn't bring himself to state his true wish aloud.
To complain and to ask for more. To be selfish…Those were unfair to do. To all of those still alive, and all of those that had died. He had his time. He even had the chance to “live” after his death.
Hanako stared at the stars again. They were slowly fading, disappearing, as the whitish blue of the morning rise drew itself on the canvas above him.
He still wasn’t satisfied.
He was still feeling heavy.
But if this lie, this fantasy of being alive was all that could alleviate the guilt of his sin,
Then he could only “dream” that one day, he could find peace for his long gone soul.
The sun was rising, and they stayed standing behind the fence, next to each other, watching the slow reveal of the glory of an early dawn.
Mitsuba was captured by the colour. So bright, so warm — strange how a colour could give so many feelings. That yellow that made him scared of going any further down the lonely corridor last night ; that same yellow was inviting him closer to the sky. He couldn’t remember if, in his previous life, he had been able to assist such a spectacle, but even if he did, he was sure that it wasn’t comparable to this. It was proof that he didn’t need to be alive to appreciate such beauty.
Watching the amazement in Mitsuba’s eyes amused Hanako. He was smiling, thouroughly enjoying it like the child he was, and he probably didn’t even realize it.
“It’s so nice.”
And as embarassing as it was to admit, the toilet-bound ghost silenly agreed. It was nice to have been able to talk to someone who vagely shared his sentiments. And it would have been nice to do so again.