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Waking Up
Was difficult.
Every day, Takumi prayed that once his eyes were open, everything would be back to normal. That, as he raised his arm above his eyes, examining his hands, he would see the ones he recognized as his own, rather than long, thin fingers and pale skin.
Alas, that was never the case, not even in his dreams. Dreams that blurred with the waking world.
Takumi got into the habit of checking the room every morning, always expecting to find the pale figure to be observing him. He couldn’t tell whether he was trapped in a long nightmare or if this terrifying, dreadful existence was simply his new reality.
All this was why Takumi requested the removal of the couch and mirror from his room. The others looked at him with worry at such a demand, as if he had lost his mind, but he did not let that change his mind, and so Sirei carried out his request. Those items felt forever haunted by the ghost he could not exorcize.
A ghost that he could still hear, loud and clear, right in his ear, trying to convince him to stare at his reflection again and teasing him for his cowardice.
Takumi paid it no mind and carried on.
Speaking with Others
Was odd.
At first, Takumi avoided conversation as much as he could afford to in the midst of an unfair war, keeping discussions curt and to the point. However, he knew from the beginning that this method would not last, for once the war ended, he would need to partake in the negotiations for peace.
So, during the partnership with the Futuran Rebels, he started sitting down in the cafeteria for longer, conversing, and getting used to his voice being a different pitch from all the previous memories he held.
This is how Takumi found himself thoroughly surprised by the lack of antagonism from the voice in his head.
“So… that’s what they look like?” a surprised question. “Her hair is quite beautiful…” a contemplative murmur. “His outfit is rather odd, isn’t it?” an amused comment.
The observations were either constant or halted by extended periods of contemplative silence, and eventually, Takumi got used to this routine, how the intruder in his friendships analyzed it all, while Takumi tried to focus on conversation without feeling like he had to pick and choose his words.
It wasn’t like the ghost could do anything with the sensitive information discussed. Trapped forever in Takumi’s body, unable to do more than lift a pinkie every so often… and honestly, the ghost didn’t seem all that interested in enacting some elaborate revenge anymore. To Takumi’s relief.
It was a bit of a disquieting realization that the one who insisted that he would make Takumi’s life a never-ending hell of unpleasant commentary was now enjoying their arrangement.
Maybe it was due to the fact that his perception and Takumi’s were one and the same. Not just in vision, but also in touch, hearing, and smell. If Takumi didn’t hate said intruder in his head so very much, he might have felt something akin to empathy as he listened to someone ramble and comment on all the unique new things the ghost was experiencing.
A ghost that only started living once he was long gone.
Takumi found it pitiful.
Building his new Life
Was okay.
Once the war was over, Takumi mostly kept to himself.
His friends stayed in touch and visited often. The meetings to establish peace between Humans and Futurans were consistent enough that he wasn’t exactly isolating, but it wasn’t like he was making an effort to go out and meet people either.
A couple of years were spent travelling around the world, visiting less inhabited areas. Half because he wanted to experience as many genuine memories as he could, half because the voice in his head seemed a little more bearable when it came to enjoying nature.
Meanwhile, the time spent in his own home was occupied with reading or playing games. He didn’t even like the former much once upon a time, but the voice was particularly silent during those times, and was therefore a nice way to get some peace and quiet.
The home he chose was nice and big, lacking mirrors but having just about any other luxury one could need. It included a vast garden with a pond, a useful yet pleasant addition to cope with the unbearable summer heat.
It was a pretty satisfying life. A routine formed, and he had little to complain about.
Over time, Takumi even got used to no longer knowing what he looked like. It became natural to focus on other people when shown group photos, to bend down on doors that seem too short for him even though they were not, or to no longer bother thinking if his hair looked alright.
Long thin limbs, white straight hair, pale dry skin. All of it became natural.
Even the voice was something he grew used to, who, despite all these changes in Takumi’s life, loyally stayed, poking fun here and there, but losing any bite as years went on.
For better or worse, the ghost has become his lifelong companion.
Takumi no longer hated that thought.
Growing Old
Was nice.
“Eito,” Takumi whispered one random summer night, with his feet in the pond, staring up at the bright full moon.
It was the first time in years he uttered the name of the ghost that had been haunting him.
Takumi no longer remembered when the last time he had said it, but he assumed it had been in a random passing conversation during some meeting, as he and his friends discussed all that had transpired in the academy and war. He knew for a fact he hadn’t addressed the ghost by name since the day this haunting had started.
It felt weird to break that promise to himself of keeping his distance from the one he hated, even though they shared a body, but at the same time, Takumi had grown tired of this petty game.
Kicking some water beneath him, he scared away a pair of fish. One was pure white; the other was blood red. The moon reflected on the water’s surface, and they danced around it.
As the voice stayed quiet, Takumi spoke again, tone gentle. “Why are you still here?”
The ghost didn’t reply; perhaps Takumi chose the wrong time to speak, or maybe the ghost was asleep. As the years passed, the ghost had these silent moments more and more; sometimes days passed between passing comments.
It was this past week that made Takumi realize he hated those quiet days. Even if he would never confess it aloud.
Though he wondered if the ghost knew these thoughts, since he knew so much else that passed through Takumi’s mind.
“... I do know,” the voice–Eito murmured.
Takumi blinked. His feet came to a stop, the water undisturbed again.
Somehow, he hadn’t expected an answer.
“I promised I would never leave you, didn’t I?” Eito added, the mocking tone from years long gone returned, as if it never left… but softer than it used to be. “Are you still waiting for the day you will get rid of me?”
“No,” Takumi replied without delay.
To which Eito didn’t comment, not at first, just hummed along, as if thinking.
Takumi went back to staring at the night sky, a sky that hadn’t changed since the day their game took place. A war had come and gone, the peace treaties were long over with, and their game ended what felt like centuries ago.
“You have mellowed out,” the ghost accused; Takumi imagined him pouting. “Though I suppose you were never all that stubborn in the first place, since you surrendered to me so readily.”
Takumi couldn’t help the quiet scoff at the bitter words. It had been so long since the two bickered that, instead of anger, he felt fondness. “And yet you never followed through with your threat of annoying me every waking moment.”
Eito snorts. “You were too much of a pathetic sight. I believe the lack of commentary on your terribly boring life presented a much better torture.”
“… And yet you have enjoyed this boring life more than me,” Takumi poked back, smirking. “Being able to experience things through my eyes, seeing a world that’s undistorted… hasn’t it been nice?”
Quiet again, so Takumi took the chance to stretch and yawn. The breeze was making him sleepy.
“… It has,” Eito eventually said, barely above a murmur in Takumi’s ear. “I didn’t know hideous humans could create something so beautiful.”
In the far distance, the lights of a bustling city could be seen. It truly was a beautiful sight.
“We worked hard to make it come true… your advice was useful,” Takumi remembered all the whispers on how to better manipulate the people against the peace treaty, the long nights over political documents, where suddenly his hand was writing the report in his stead. “You helped create something beautiful.”
Yet Takumi never thanked him for that. Their previous relationship never allowed it.
The silence of the night falls between them, the unsaid gentle words fall and sink into the water, where neither bothers to fish it out, but are aware of its existence. Just as they are aware of the two fish swimming around it. It was the truth that the two of them, together, were a team.
The voice then spoke again, so quiet, Takumi might have missed it if it didn’t come from inside his own head. “Takumi… Can I stay?”
A laugh bubbled out, and Takumi felt a fondness incapable of description. “I thought the deal was that you would annoy until the end of time?” Yes. Please stay. Forever. These are the four words he thought but left unsaid.
Good thing they did not need words to be spoken to know them. “… I will.”
As Takumi looked back down at the pond below, he expected to see the fish near him again, swimming peacefully. Instead, the sight left him speechless.
For the first time in years, he saw himself, much older than he was when their game ended, but definitely himself, Takumi Sumino, with red hair sticking out like a sore thumb, shorter torso, and slightly more tanned skin.
But most surprising of all was that he was not alone.
Sitting next to him was the much more familiar reflection of a boy who hadn’t aged a day, and yet was taller than him. All dressed in white, befitting of his ghost status.
…Eito’s hand rested on top of his, and his head rested on Takumi’s shoulder. For a moment, Takumi felt the warmth of both points of contact, despite the truth.
Eito was his shadow. A ghost who would make sure that no matter what, Takumi would never adventure alone, read alone, or die alone.
A singular Eito, with a singular Takumi.
Together Forever.