Chapter Text
Yuuta Okkotsu was the type of person to wear his heart on his sleeve. For better or worse, he’d always been this way (and likely always would be).
As a child he bore that truth with pride—a foolish yet innocent pride only someone whose age was in the single digits could muster. His mother, Rokumi, lovingly referred to him as an open book, thinking it was “cute” that her son’s spectrum of emotions could be identified with hardly any effort on her part. After all, it made her job as a parent easier. And while his father, Yabure, wasn’t as big of a fan of Yuuta’s open disposition as his wife, he still loved him all the same. Even after Retsuna—Yuuta’s little sister—was born, and his father made him promise to watch out for her as an older sibling should, he would handle the many tears Yuuta would shed over the years with the grace of an exasperated parent who loved their somewhat sensitive child unconditionally.
Because Yuuta cried. A lot. He felt all of his emotions strongly, but being chronically ill was hard too: the constant doctor’s visits, hospital stays, breaks from school, and extended times in isolation were tough for anyone. For a child? It was so, so lonely. Other children didn’t understand why he kept getting sick over and over again. While he knew it was recurrent pneumonia, a condition several health professionals assured his parents he would most likely grow out of once he was a bit older, most other children didn’t get it.
“Don’t hang out with Yuuta-kun.” Someone had whispered, and his situation worsened from there. “He’ll end up in the hospital soon anyway, and then we won’t see him again for days!”
“Why? Is he sick?”
“He’s always sick. Some people say he’s cursed.”
“Wait, seriously? Is he contagious?”
“Do you really want to find out?”
“No way! I’m staying far away from him.”
Once a couple kids at his school started the rumors about him being “cursed” it was all downhill from there. It had already been hard to keep friends when he missed school or felt so low energy he could barely keep up with schoolwork.
The only exception? Rika.
Yuuta remembered walking around the hospital on that sunny winter morning. He’d been bored, mindlessly wandering the halls if only to stretch his legs, when he felt the breeze coming from one of the hospital rooms nearby. Despite the time of year it was an unnaturally warm day, meaning that the breeze wasn’t cold and cutting but rather warm and welcoming. He found himself slowing to a halt as he caught sight of a girl barely a year older than him sitting up on her hospital bed, brown hair blowing in the wind as she stared out the open window.
The sound of his coughing seemed to alert her to his presence though, because only a second later did she turn around to regard him curiously.
And then she smiled.
Yuuta didn’t believe in love at first sight—he was only five-years-old after all—but he remembered smiling back as his heartbeat accelerated with a feeling he’d been having a difficult time feeling lately: hope.
Maybe, he’d wondered as she raised a hand to beckon him over, introducing herself with a cheerful grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she’s looking for a friend too.
“H-hi!” He returned her greeting shyly, albeit loudly (he was an awkward kid). “My name is Yuuta Okkotsu. It’s nice to meet you, Orimoto-chan.”
She giggled. “You can just call me Rika, silly.”
He blinked dumbly, but acquiesced out of politeness. “Okay, um, Rika-chan it is! And you can call me by my first name too. It’s only fair.”
Resting her chin on her hand, she cocked her head. “Alright, Yuuta-kun. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you in the hospital?”
Yuuta bit his lip, wondering if he should tell the truth or downplay how sick he was. In the end he decided his parents didn’t raise a liar.
“Oh, uh… I’m recovering from pneumonia.” He unconsciously fiddled with the IV stand as he sounded out the word carefully. “It’s easier to get this time of year, ‘cause it’s so cold, though I tend to get it a lot,” his voice fell along with his eyes. He was worried she’d think he was contagious and tell him to get lost like a lot of other kids tended to do.
To his surprise, however, as Rika’s eyes widened she spoke with excitement. “Me too! The recovering from pneumonia thing—this is my first time getting it.” She shared before her eyes began to darken a bit, like she was looking at something far away. “My dad and I went hiking in the mountains a couple days ago and we got separated. I tried looking for him, but it was so cold… the last thing I remember out there was feeling really warm and sleepy all of a sudden, and then finding somewhere to take a nap. The next thing I knew I was here.” Her eyes began to look glassy. “All by myself.”
Yuuta felt his heart thrum in sympathy. Oh no. The people that rescued her didn’t find her father? But if she was found a few days ago and he’s still not here that probably means he’s…
Dead or missing, neither option was a good one.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, voice sincere. “That’s awful. Um, but your mom will be here to pick you up once you’re all better, right? Maybe you can retrace your steps and help look for him.”
Rika’s face shuttered with bitter amusement. “My mom passed away last year. It’s okay,” she assured when Yuuta visibly winced at his oversight, “you couldn’t have known. If the police or the park rangers they’re working with can’t find my dad by tomorrow, then my grandma will come get me. She doesn’t want me to miss the entire first week of school.” She allowed herself to pout for a moment. “I really hope they find my dad. Grandma makes the worst stewed eggplant and she makes it all the time.”
For some reason she looked sadder at the prospect of having to eat her grandmother’s cooking compared to what she’d shared about her parents, but Yuuta figured everyone coped in their own way. Still, he felt the overwhelming urge to comfort her. Before he knew it he was lifting his free hand up so he could place it over one of her own.
“Rika-chan, I’m so s—”
She cut him off by putting a finger over his lips, his eyebrows raising as she hushed him. “Has anyone ever told you that you say sorry too much? It’s not your fault I’m cursed.” Despite her words she flipped her palm over and squeezed his hand as if he were a lifeline. “Or at least that’s what my grandma said when my mom died. I’m sure she’ll blame me for what happened to my dad too.”
Yuuta gazed at her curiously. Cursed? Then he exclaimed, angry on her behalf: “But that’s not your fault! You’re not ‘cursed’ just because a couple bad things have happened around you.” Tears gathered in his eyes. I can’t believe the nerve of some people!
This time when Rika smiled it matched the blinding sun behind her. The laugh that burst from her filled the room, yet her hand remained grasping Yuuta’s.
“Thank you, Yuuta-kun! She’s always been a crabby old fart,” she agreed, brown eyes shining as they looked at Yuuta like he’d passed a test she hadn’t realized she was administering. “I’m not looking forward to moving in with her if they don’t find my dad, but at least I won’t be with a stranger. Do you go to school around here?”
And from there they discovered they’d be starting at the same elementary school. Because of Rika’s mother’s passing and the fact her birthday landed in an in-between time of year, her father had held her back from starting school early. This meant, despite her being almost a year older than the rest of their classmates, they’d be in the same grade.
“That’s so cool!” Yuuta gushed, hope stirring in his chest once more. “Maybe we’ll even be in the same class? And if not we can always see each other during recess, or—”
The tickle in his throat decided to act up, and he found himself doubled over in a nasty coughing fit. He hardly noticed as he gripped the IV pole with one hand and clutched his chest with the other that there was movement above him. By the time he was done coughing, his eyes watery and muscles tired from the effort, he realized Rika had slid off of her hospital bed and was standing before him barefoot.
“Let’s get you back to your room,” she said, offering her hand this time.
Yuuta was confused. “Um, are you allowed to leave? Also what about your shoes?” He took her hand regardless.
She rolled her eyes, tugging him towards the doorway. “Not really, and I have no idea. I’m not really worried about getting in trouble though. I don’t think I’ll get sick walking around without shoes either.” Her fingers intertwined with his as they moved. “I could do with a change of scenery.”
Yuuta let out a small laugh. “My room looks the same as yours. We’re in a hospital, remember?”
“Oh shut it, Yuuta!”
“Okay, Rika-chan. Wait, no, my room is that way!”
As the years went on they only grew closer. Yuuta’s family adored Rika almost as much as he did, and since Rika’s grandmother was wary of her she spent a lot of her time outside of school at his place. Even though her grandmother thought it would “spell trouble” for the Okkotsu family, the old woman was happy to have the cursed child out of her hair.
“So pretty,” Retsuna gushed as she watched Rika bend and weave dandelions together to form a crown of sorts. She had quickly become more or less Rika’s shadow, which sometimes bothered Yuuta when he wanted to hang out with his best friend without having to mind his little sister. His parents seemed to understand this though, so whenever Rika came over they always made sure Retsuna needed to help them around the house in order to give him a break from babysitting.
Right now, however, Yuuta was happy to watch Rika turning the wildflowers he’d picked for her into a work of art.
“There we go!” The brunette said cheerfully as she got the last stem tied in place. She dramatically placed it on Retsuna’s head as if she were crowning a princess, sending the toddler into excited squeals. “You like it?”
“I love it!” She practically knocked Rika over with the force of her running jump-hug, catching Yuuta’s attention.
“Retsuna!” He admonished, quickly getting to his feet so he could help Rika up. “I know you’re excited, but you should be more careful.”
The girls didn’t seem to be paying much mind to his words if their giggles were any indication. At that he pouted. Was he feeling a bit left out? Perhaps. As if sensing his inner turmoil, Rika told Retsuna to show her parents her new crown. Once she’d taken off towards the house to do as instructed, Rika winked at Yuuta.
“It’s okay, Yuuta. If you bring me more flowers I’ll make you a crown too!”
He blushed, crossing his arms. “H-how did you know I wanted a crown?”
“Because it’s written all over your face,” she laughed, picking herself up so she could make her way towards him. “Come on. She’ll be distracted for a little bit, and I’m sure your parents are taking a ton of pictures. We can pick out some flowers that aren’t dandelions for each other… if your mom doesn’t mind.”
As natural as breathing her hand slipped into his, and he instantly felt his anxieties disappear.
“As long as we don’t take too many I don’t think she’ll mind. Just you watch; I’ll pick out the prettiest flowers in the garden for your crown, Rika-chan.” He promised, super passionate about this as he was with most things. “It’ll be a flower crown fit for a queen!”
He didn’t hear her breath hitch in surprise at his words. Being of the oblivious sort, he had no idea how much her affection for him was growing. But he did manage to hear the whispered: “Silly Yuuta. If I’m your queen, then that makes you my king.”
Being children, they both found the idea supremely appealing. If they lovingly referred to each other as his or her queen or king when in private, well, then it was their little inside joke.
“Yuuta. Rika. Mind to tell me why the both of you came back from the park soaking wet?” Rokumi asked, arms crossed but with an amused upturn to her lips.
Yuuta looked at his feet, ignoring the way his clothes stuck to his body uncomfortably. Between the two children he was more drenched than Rika. “S-sorry! There was an event at the park today and this nice lady saw Rika-chan and I playing by ourselves and must not have wanted us to feel left out because she gave us a big bag of water balloons and it was so hot we just thought it’d be fun to have a water balloon fight with them and we kinda got carried away it was so fun we didn’t think about—”
His string of rambling was cut off by a loud sneeze, making both Rika and his mother look at him worriedly.
“Sweetheart, it’s alright!” Rokumi said while falling to her knees in front of Yuuta so she could check him over, rubbing his back soothingly. “I was just surprised is all. I didn’t want to find out you’d both managed to fall into a pond or the river near the park. I’m happy you two had such a fun time together,” she assured, and the children both seemed to stand a little taller. “But we do need to get you dry right away. The last thing we need is for you to get pneumonia again. Rika, darling, can you be a dear and grab a towel from the bathroom? You should get one for yourself too.”
Rika nodded, running off to fulfill the request in record time. Yuuta was in and out of the hospital every other month as it was—it would really suck to get sick from a simple water balloon fight.
When she returned, Rokumi took turns wrapping them both in towels and hugging them close. “So,” she started as she held onto them, her warmth helping keep the small shivers at bay before they could change into dry clothes, “who won?”
Yuuta made a confused hum. “Won what?”
“The water balloon fight.”
Rika giggled victoriously the same time as Yuuta groaned. “I went easy on Rika-chan, but she didn’t hold back.”
“All is fair in love and war, Yuuta.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll remember that next time!”
His mother laughed, pulling away from the two and ruffling their hair. “Win or lose, it’s about the fun you both had today. How about I make some yamatsuki cabbage while the two of you take turns changing into dry clothes? Rika, you can probably fit into one of Retsuna’s oversized dresses; they’re on the far left side of the closet since she hasn’t quite grown into them yet, but they should fit you just fine.”
“Thank you, Okkotsu-san!”
Yabure, on the other hand, was a little more serious when it came to Yuuta’s relationship with Rika.
“Son, make sure to have Rika home by dark.” He instructed as the two children put on their shoes, intending to head to the park to play. A new area of play equipment had been added along with another sandbox. “Orimoto-san wants her home in time for dinner. You’ve been invited to join them if you’d like.”
Yuuta squinted suspiciously. “What are we having for dinner?”
His father smiled conspiratorily at Rika. “It just so happens your mother picked up some steak at the market, so if you want—”
“No thanks! I’ll eat dinner at Orimoto-san’s.”
Rika stifled a chuckle with her hand. She knew Yuuta disliked steak, especially the fatty kind the rest of his family liked, so she was certain Yabure had planned this.
“Sounds good. Remember to look both ways before crossing the street, and hold her hand!”
Yuuta rolled his eyes. He’d heard this a dozen times before. “I know, dad. Bye!” When they were out of the house a few seconds later, he sighed before looking at Rika with a sour face. “He’s been lecturing me so much lately about making sure I take care of you, and I have no idea why. Haven’t I already been doing a good job at making sure you’re safe and happy?”
The brunette walking beside him smiled knowingly, but held her tongue. “Oh, I don’t know. Someone spun me so hard on the playground the other day I almost fell off, and that same someone almost forgot when my birthday was a couple months back.”
He pursed his lips in a pout, eyes closed in faux anguish. “I said I was sorry.”
Of course, not all of their time together was sunshine and rainbows. Just before his 10th birthday Yuuta got sick again. Rika was sure it was because he kept forgetting his scarf at home, and he refused to borrow hers despite her superior immune system. Since his father was on a work trip and his mother needed to take care of his sister this meant a long stretch of time spent in a hospital room by himself. For a while he kept himself occupied with homework—in between coughing until his chest ached, that is—but once it was finished there was nothing else to do but read a single volume of manga one of the nurses had let him borrow. And it wasn’t that it was boring. No, Yuuta actually loved manga; he thought the concept of alchemy in this one was really cool, too. His heart just… wasn’t in it. He didn’t want to be alone right now under the bright fluorescent lights and cold, sterile air.
He wanted Rika.
Somehow, as if she’d heard his thoughts, she appeared in the doorway of his hospital room breathing heavily the very next minute. Even though it was cold outside she was wearing her favorite blue dress, and her cheeks were flushed as if she’d run a marathon. In one of her hands she carried a plastic bag from one of the nearby grocery stores.
“Yuuta!” She greeted brightly, bounding over to him and hauling herself right up onto his hospital bed with him. “I came as quickly as I could. My grandma was being a major pain about me taking the bus here, but I ended up pretending that I lost my ticket so I could use the money she gave me to buy you this instead.”
He was going to protest, saying she needed to stop this habit she’d developed of manipulating adults with her cuteness (coupled by pretending to be air-headed), yet as she pulled out fresh mochi ice cream he found his stomach rumbling. He supposed the bus she’d been on would’ve come here anyway, so there was really no harm in her actions, right?
“You got chocolate,” he noted, knowing she preferred vanilla or strawberry.
“It’s your favorite,” she replied. It was so immediate, her logic so simple. It touched his heart.
He felt his eyes water with tears of appreciation. “Thank you, Rika-chan.”
She shook her head fondly as he began to sniffle. “You get so worked up when you’re sick, you know that? It’s just mochi!”
Then, just a few days later, was the worst day of Yuuta’s life.
Ironically enough, his tenth birthday had started out as the best day of his life. The weather was perfect. The sun was shining, and while it was a tad chilly it was as warm as it could be for early March in Sendai. A gentle breeze carried the faint scent of soon-to-bloom sakura trees, letting Yuuta know the season his chronic illness acted up most was nearly over. He got perfect marks on a quiz in class, a new episode of an anime he was obsessed with was scheduled to air that night, and his parents promised him his favorite meal for dinner along with a trip to the sweet shop in town after school. Rika would be joining them for the latter after they killed some time at the park.
It was supposed to be a great day. It really was.
“Happy birthday, Yuuta.”
Ignoring the way the cool sand from the sandbox was getting in his shoes, Yuuta, with Rika’s permission, opened the fancy velvet box that looked very similar to one he’d spied on her grandmother’s dresser once some time ago. Inside he was flabbergasted to find a simple yet elegant silver ring with a single gem set into it. It was too big for him right now, and while it would likely fit him just fine in the future he was pretty sure it was more Rika’s style.
“Huh? A ring?” He said, tone searching.
She nodded. “An engagement ring.”
“Engagement?” He parrotted. He was pretty sure knew what that meant. From what he gathered on television and from his parents, being engaged was the next step after dating but before marriage, which was a bond between two people who were in love with each other. An engagement ring was making a vow to be with someone forever and ever.
In love, Yuuta thought as he regarded the ring. Despite its small size the weight of it felt heavier than anything he’d ever held until now. Rika-chan’s in love with me?
Rika confirmed his thoughts. “Yeah. It's a promise,” she snuck her pinky around his in an impromptu pinky promise, “that when we both grow up, we'll get married.”
There was a wobble to her lip despite the smile on her face. Even Yuuta—who could sometimes be quite clueless and unobservant—automatically knew why; she was scared. Scared he didn’t feel the same way.
“Rika-chan,” he responded with all the sincerity he could muster. He gingerly slipped the ring onto her left ring finger, watching her eyes water for the first time since he’d known her. “You’re my best friend. Of course I’ll marry you!” He vowed, wincing at how loud his declaration was before continuing at a more reasonable volume. “Um, when we’re older. After we’re done with school and I get a job so I can take care of you. I promise.”
The next thing he knew she was hugging him tight, small sniffles escaping her every so often. “Yuuta!”
He closed his eyes, running a hand through her hair comfortingly like his mother did for him when he was sick or feeling sad. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know.” His voice was soft. Rika latched onto every word. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Rika pulled away, wiping away her tears with her arm. The same arm with the ring on the end of her finger. “You’d be pretty lonely,” she answered, sobering up. “But I’d be miserable without you too, so we’re even.
“Oh!” Her attention turned to the clock on the other side of the park. “Yuuta, it’s almost time to leave. We don’t want to be late for your birthday party, right?”
“Party? It’s just dinner and dessert with my family,” he laughed, but stood up all the same. He offered her a helping hand like always. “But you’re right. We should get going.”
Once she was on her feet, Rika smirked. “The last one to your place is a rotten egg!” Then she took off. He was used to her antics by now that he’d figured she would want to play games with him on the way home, so he was hot on her heels.
They were both having so much fun, were so carefree and so confident this day would be like any other, that neither of them noticed there was a car turning the corner without stopping at the stop sign like it should have. If either of them had noticed they might have waited to cross until they were sure the driver of the car slowed down. But they didn’t. Yuuta only realized there was a car and that it wasn’t stopping the moment Rika took a single playful leap onto the road.
There wasn’t any time for Yuuta to so much as scream her name. One instant, Rika was looking back at him with a smile on her face. The next instant her skull was half-crushed in a puddle of blood on the pavement. The sound of screeching tires and screams of nearby pedestrians rung in his ears.
Yuuta felt like he was the one dying as he stared at her now limp body. In spite of the windbreaker he was wearing, he suddenly felt very, very cold. He could vaguely hear other people nearby: screaming for help, calling the police, requesting an ambulance (a futile endeavor), and someone yelling at the driver for failing to pay attention. The driver himself kept repeating that he hadn’t meant to hit her. Hadn’t meant to kill her.
No, Yuuta thought as his dark blue eyes stared at Rika’s dead body like he was stuck in a nightmare. Because that’s what this had to be, right? A nightmare? This couldn’t be real life. You can’t be dead. We were going to be together forever. We made a promise.
You can’t die, Rika. You can’t die. Don’t die. Don’t die! Please, please don’t die! Don’t leave me!
Suddenly, further confirming he was definitely trapped in a nightmare, something began crawling out of the puddle of blood pooling around her head. Two pale arms and a large white mouth parted from the sea of red. His breath hitched in fear as the monster grabbed his legs firmly but not enough to cause pain.
“Yuuta,” it droned. The cadence was far too familiar.
His heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly found it getting harder and harder to breathe. Is that Rika-chan?
“When we grow up,” it continued, her voice warbling in a manner that gave him goosebumps and froze his lungs, “we’re gonna get m a r r i e d.”
He heard the voice of an adult nearby shouting “hey, kid” before the world went black.
There was no formal funeral. Rika’s grandmother had her buried alongside her parents; there was no fanfare, no ceremony, and although Yuuta’s parents brought him to her grave to place flowers and say his goodbye the hole in his heart remained the same.
“Oh, my poor baby,” Rokumi cried, watching as her son’s face was filled with fear more so than grief as he stared at the grave of his best friend. His first love. She’d tried coaxing him to place his flower on the headstone like the rest of the Okkotsu family had, but his feet wouldn’t budge. Beside her Yabure carried a sobbing Retsuna in his arms. “I’m so sorry this happened. It really isn’t fair.”
“It was a horrible accident.” Yabure lamented, sighing as his daughter asked for the umpteenth time why the doctor’s couldn’t fix Rika like they “fixed” Yuuta when he was sick. “I know you cared about her very much, Yuuta. It’s going to hurt for a while. It will get better though,” he tried to advise tactfully, knowing they could only help his child so much. “One day at a time the pain will lessen. It won’t go away entirely, and you don’t have to forget her, but you’ll be able to move on.”
Yuuta had no idea his father was giving him some of the best advice a ten-year-old could get in the wake of his best friend dying on his birthday just a half a week prior. He was too busy staring in horror at the monster on Rika’s tombstone caressing it like the stone was a cat it was petting lovingly.
The engagement right she’d gifted him burned from where it rested in his jacket pocket. Her grandmother had given it to him after the coroner took it off of Rika’s corpse following the accident; it was in a plain white envelope with his name on it along with a sticky note telling him “I told you she was cursed; keep the ring that killed her and her mother if you dare.”
He hated her grandmother. But he hated that he began to wonder if she was right more.
The situation only got worse from there. Yuuta, if he’d been his old self, might have tried to hold onto his childlike optimism that things could only get better after hitting the low point that was Rika’s death. But he had changed since that day. He was being haunted by his first love (who was supposed to be the love of his life and at this rate still might be), and his normally vibrant blue eyes had dulled to a steely gray.
His mother called it needing time to adjust after a traumatic event. His father called it PTSD, and kept debating if he should try to find a therapist. His sister just called it “Yuuta is sad and scared all the time now, how do we fix this?” None of them could have known the girl who was once a ray of sunshine in their home was now a monster hellbent on staying by Yuuta’s side forever and ever. And while his eleventh birthday came and went with little improvement on his part there was one major issue.
The monster that was Rika was growing stronger. Bigger. And manifesting parts of herself far more often.
A classmate had accidentally knocked him down during gym class last week. It hurt, barely, yet that’s all it took. Just as Yuuta sensed the familiar dread and despair which came when Rika appeared, the boy who’d ran into him let out a cry of pain as he also ended up on the ground. Yuuta’s mouth went dry when saw three thin, bleeding claw marks on the poor soul who’d garnered Rika’s attention.
“Don’t hurt Yuuta.” Rika had hissed out the warning before her presence vanished, the teacher running over to check over them. Luckily the only plausible excuse for the student’s injuries was him slipping on the gravel track and cutting himself that way.
It was a load of garbage; however, there was no other way to explain Rika when only Yuuta could see her.
Or so he believed.
“Big brother!” His little sister shouted, bursting into his room without knocking like she’d done several times before. She had no idea that the night prior had plagued him with nightmares and fitful sleep. That meant when she jumped onto his bed letting him know he’d already slept through breakfast and their mom didn’t want him missing lunch too that she hadn’t expected him to be crying. Apparently her presence and Yuuta’s tears were all it took for Rika to lash out.
“Get away!”
Retsuna froze as the sinister voice echoed from around the room just as Yuuta realized what was about to happen.
“No! Rika-chan, stop!” His words made the monster whose large clawed hands had curled around his little sister’s mid-section falter if only for a second. “That’s my sister,” he pleaded, hoping to salvage the situation. “You remember Retsuna, don’t you?”
“Y-Yuuta.” Retsuna surprised him by staring directly at where Rika’s “face”—which was more or less one large mouth on account of the lack of other features—was. Her voice was so quiet and riddled with a fearful stutter it only made him want to cry again. What kind of brother was he when he couldn’t even protect his own sister? “Why did you c-call this thing Rika?”
He tried to inch closer to her as he replied sadly: “Because I think she is Rika. She’s been… around, tied to me,” he tried to explain, “since the day Rika died. But no one else but me has seen her.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Until now.”
Until you, he thought, confused how or why this was suddenly happening.
Rika frowned, cutting into the siblings’ conversation. “She made Yuuta cry.”
“She didn’t!” He argued. “I just had a bad dream. Will you please put her down?” When Rika made no moves to listen, he pressed further. “Please, Rika-chan? For me?”
“Okay…” Rika lamented, something she only did if she hadn’t been fully set off, dropping Restuna gracelessly onto the bed. Yuuta swept her up into a hug the moment she was free. The siblings clutched onto one another as Rika’s form faded from sight, though her terrifying aura still lingered.
A minute passed. And then two. Then his mother’s voice rang from the kitchen:
“Retsuna, have you woken up your brother yet? Lunch is just about ready!”
“Y-yes! Coming!”
Yuuta reluctantly let his sister go, stomach churning as he wondered what she was going to do. Scream? Tell their parents? He doubted they’d believe her unless they witnessed what she’d seen themselves, but—
“Big brother?”
The small voice cut through his mind’s inner ramblings like a knife. “Y-yeah?”
“What are we going to do? If that’s really Rika, then she’s… she’s a…”
Monster went unsaid.
Putting on a brave face, he willed away the tears that threatened to well up and instead smiled as best he could. “She’s been with me for over a year, and I’ve kind of gotten used to her. I guess we just pretend she’s not around? It,” he paused, uncertain, “would be bad if mom and dad found out about her.”
Retsuna bit her lip. “Or maybe they could help.”
“How?” He questioned, pessimistic as ever these days. “I don’t think they can do anything. Rika’s haunting me. Telling them would either make them think we’re both going crazy, or if they are suddenly able to see her they might do something that sets her off.” His heart rate increased at the thought. “You saw her. She’s dangerous. We—I can’t put them in harm's way. And I don’t want her to hurt you next time, intentionally or accidentally. Until I can figure out what to do, you need to stay away from me. Okay?”
“But Yuuta—”
“Retsuna, please. I promise I’ll do some research to figure out if it’s possible for her to move on, but until I can guarantee she won’t lash out at you I need you to give me some space. I don’t like this either,” he admitted, hoping she understood this was as tough for him as it was for her.
Eventually, she nodded. She didn’t seem very happy about it though. “Okay, but I’m going to do research on my own too. I miss you, Yuuta.”
It was getting near impossible to fight back tears. Still, he managed to blink them away. “I miss you too. I’ll do my best to fix this; I promise.”
A little over one year later, Yuuta's best obviously wasn’t good enough.
He’d started middle school with the hope rumors of him being cursed would fade. Strangely enough, his physical health was doing better overall. Sure he had issues sleeping (his eyebags were permanent at this point), and sometimes his nightmares woke his sister or his parents up, but he hadn’t gotten pneumonia since the time before Rika’s death. The only issue was during his last year in elementary school Rika had become more active. Too many students had “accidents” befall them when Yuuta was around; it made the allegations of him being cursed even stronger.
He made it one week before a former classmate spread the tale of Rika’s death and the other strange incidents that happened around him. He made it one month before a girl in another class approached him in an attempt to “get to know the cute tragic loner boy” until Rika sent her flying into the row of lockers, knocking the poor girl unconscious and landing Yuuta in the principal’s office. Even though it pained Yuuta to lie, he told the principal and his mother—who’d answered the phone call regarding the incident—that he’d done it. That he’d shoved her because she said something about Rika’s death that freaked him out. His mother was able to argue he’d experienced an out-of-character PTSD response and lightened his punishment to a written apology and three mandatory trips to the school counselor.
Yuuta accepted, of course. It was far kinder than he deserved.
I need to figure out what she wants, he told himself every time something bad happened. The problem was Rika only ever came out under two conditions: 1) she was jealous, or 2) he was in danger. It made the idea Retsuna had garnered from some online forum about chatting with Rika about what was keeping her tethered to Earth, to Yuuta, moot. There was also the concern that the thing Rika wanted was unattainable. If she wanted what Yuuta guessed she wanted it was to either marry him, or something else that wouldn’t exactly solve his own problem (aka wanting to be with him—haunt him—forever).
Eventually he resigned himself to just having to stay away from people, his family included. He figured Retsuna would grow tired of his plight and move on to focus on her own life rather than his anyway.
The last thing he’d expected was for his parents to suddenly see Rika too.
For his mother, it was because he’d woken up screaming after a particularly scary nightmare.
“Yuuta,” she stroked his slick-with-sweat hair back from his forehead as he woke with a gasp, tears streaming down his face. He clutched his mother’s hand like a lifeline. “Sweetheart, try to take a few deep breaths. I’m here.”
Rika apparently found his residual sobs from the nightmare problematic. Since she didn’t understand his anguish was caused by inner turmoil, she blamed Rokumi.
She manifested already partially curled around Yuuta like a dragon hoarding its treasure. When she did so, in the low light of the lamp Rokumi had turned on upon entering the room, he could see his mother freeze. He watched with a sinking dread as his mother’s eyes focused on the horrible shape that was Rika, large white teeth dripping saliva as she bared them at the woman she’d used to see as mother-figure.
“Stop making Yuuta sad.”
Rokumi scrambled off the bed, tearing her arm away from her son in attempts to create more space between herself and Rika.
“What are you?” She asked, eyes glazed over in fear. Her lower lip quivered as her attention slowly flitted over to Yuuta. “You can see it too, can’t you?”
Wincing, Yuuta nodded. “Y-yeah. Mom, this is, um, this is Rika-chan.”
A look of understanding passed over his mother’s face for a brief moment; however, overwhelming terror quickly triumphed.
“She’s haunting you. She’s been haunting you,” Rokumi clarified. It was then Yuuta realized she was trembling so hard she could barely keep herself upright. “That explains all the calls from school. The accidents. Can your sister see her too? This is why you’ve been pushing us away?”
He nodded again. “Rika-chan gets… jealous a lot. And when she does, well,” he paused, too ashamed to speak.
Fortunately, his mother understood what he was insinuating.
Unfortunately, his mother understood what he was insinuating.
His mother’s demeanor changed after that. She was far jumpier than normal, walking on eggshells around Yuuta to keep him happy but always staying out of reach. The night after she saw Rika she’d also taken to making sure Retsuna avoided being near him as much as possible. It hurt, but he knew it was for the best.
A couple weeks later, since Yabure was gone on business trips this time of year, his father immediately noticed something was up. At first he didn’t believe his wife’s tale that she’d seen Rika’s ghost. It did sound pretty crazy, even when Yuuta and Retsuna backed her up.
It wouldn’t be until late one evening when Retsuna was arguing with her mother about not wishing Yuuta goodnight anymore that a chill fell across the hallway outside of his room. Yabure was caught off guard when he noticed what at first appeared to be a shadow swirling along the wall where Yuuta’s bedroom was. As Rokumi and Retsuna instantly went silent he watched an eyeless, ivory head come out of the wall, his heart thundering in his chest.
“You’re upsetting Yuuta!” She screamed, the shout manifesting a cold gust of wind strong enough to throw the girls off of their feet. Yabure was only able to keep standing because his muscles had locked up from a mix of shock and fear.
Then, as quickly as she’d appeared, Rika sank back into the wall. Yet the gloomy aura remained.
After that, life at the Okkotsu household became unbearable for everyone.
To give his parents some credit, they did try to pretend Rika’s ghost wasn’t real for a short time. It didn’t stick, though, when the incidents at school ramped up half a year or so later due to a particularly persistent bully; this time they knew what was happening behind the scenes, so they pulled him out of school using his mental health trauma as an excuse as much as they could stretch it. His mother could barely keep eye contact with him, and when she did her eyes were full of unease. His father behaved similarly. Retsuna was the only one who wanted to help Yuuta, but his parents seemed to think he was a lost cause.
One evening, a couple weeks after he’d started high school, it all came to a head.
“We need to do something,” his father’s voice carried up the stairs where Yuuta could hear it all too well. He’d been walking across the hall to his room after brushing his teeth when he’d heard them. It wasn’t often his father got worked up even if it seemed to be happening more frequently lately. “We can’t keep living like this.”
“What are we supposed to do?” His mother argued, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “She’s haunting this house!”
“No, she’s not. She’s attached to him.”
Yuuta felt like throwing up. The words were cruel, but they weren’t exactly wrong. If anything Yabure was being tame in his assessment of the situation. Yuuta was a constant disturbance to his family’s peace on a good day, and a danger to their lives on a bad day.
Maybe, he thought, his fingernails digging into his skin unconsciously, it would be better if I just…
The air around him thickened immediately. A surge of frigid air flooded the area around him. At the bottom of the stairs, both of his parents knew he’d overheard. Which meant Rika had overheard too.
Rika’s clawed hands slammed onto the ground on either side of him, her scream of anger echoing down to the first floor kitchen where Rokumi and Yabure cowered. At the end of the hallway Yuuta was in, however, Retsuna came out of her room anyway.
“Stop being mean to my Yuuta!”
The sound of glass shattering and the lack of light from the kitchen signalled that the light bulb had burst from her sheer supernatural energy alone. His mother screamed, but his father exited the room and regarded Yuuta from the bottom of the staircase with anger.
“Yuuta,” Yabure stated, firm and commanding despite the way he was sweating with fear. “Tell her to stop. Now.”
What?
Yuuta shook his head slowly. “I can’t. I’ve tried, but she doesn’t listen. Not when she’s this mad.”
“Then make her listen! Control her before she hurts someone!”
Closing his eyes, Yuuta’s hands found either side of his head as they curled into his hair painfully. You don’t think I’ve tried bargaining with her, pleading with her, and yelling at her? I don’t know how to make her listen to me!
Sensing his growing turmoil, Rika shot forward towards his father.
“Rika-chan, stop!” Yuuta shouted desperately. Rika was upset, and everyone in the house knew what happened when she got upset.
Like always, she didn’t listen. He watched as his father was smacked onto the kotatsu in the next room with a sickening crack. Yuuta wanted to run to his aide; instead, he forced himself to stand still even as his sister blazed down the steps past him. If he went down there, then he would only make things worse.
With all the strength he could muster, he understood the only thing he could do to help.
“Rika-chan,” he called, this time adopting a more friendly, casual tone despite his erratic heartbeat. “I’m… going to go to bed. We could both use some rest, don’t you think?”
That seemed to at least distract Rika. She turned back to him with a garbled “Huh?” before grinning at him.
He held out his hand. “Come with me?”
She apparated to his side in an instant.
“Yuuta’s tired,” she guessed. “Needs to sleep. Don’t worry, I’ll watch over you.”
Yuuta watched as she began floating towards his bedroom. He followed, but not before chancing a look over his shoulder at where his sister and mother were helping pick his father up. When he met Yabure’s gaze there was an exchange of understanding. Incidents like these were only going to keep happening again and again because of him. Next time Rika might do more than throw Yabure or break a lightbulb. She might go for his mother or sister next, and if that happened Yuuta would never forgive himself. His father had a point; something needed to change.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Then he disappeared into his room for the rest of the night.
If he couldn’t control Rika, then the least he could do is control himself.
One month later Yuuta had converted the small garden shed in the backyard into a small domicile. There’d already been a water hookup for a sink, and with some help from his father he’d installed a modest showerhead and a very barebones toilet. Electricity wasn’t a problem, so with a plug-in heater and Rika keeping pests and the like away with just her aura alone it became almost cozy. Almost. His parents left food out for him in the mornings and evenings. He returned the cleaned dishes when he knew everyone in the house was asleep. It was small, and it didn’t have the best insulation, but it was far enough away from the house that Rika didn’t attack his family when he woke up screaming from nightmares.
Was this the best solution to his Rika problem? No. Was he more lonely than ever? Yes. Yet, when he asked himself the most important question, he knew he’d continue his course of action for all long as he needed to.
Was his family safe? Yes. For now.
He’d only wished he could have said the same for his classmates.