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If Mitsuba wasn’t anything, he was not a pervert. He didn’t even mean to wander in the girls restroom, unlike Number Seven, who practically lived in there and probably licked the toilet seats. It was stormy, so stormy that teachers drew their blinds so the kids would stop whining over thunder, and it didn’t help the lights were two days away from exploding. Hallways were basked in a dark, sheer blanket while the anxious steps of children stomped out the humidity. Mitsuba was sure the broadcasting club was enjoying these conditions, turning every thunder strike into a new rumor, but personally, the weather only inspired him of breaking down.
The moment Mitsuba had decided to rest, a gurgle came from behind him. An ankle biting supernatural was chasing him down the halls, just awesome. It must’ve been the second time this week Mitsuba was scrambling down endless corridors, trying to find the nearest door to cut his trail. It wasn’t his fault the nearest sanctuary was a girls bathroom, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that it was occupied! Upon slamming the door shut, the biting supernatural grumbled before trotting off, but another less threatening sound arose. A squeak from a student. Mitsuba went red, embarrassed even though he was invisible to the plain eye, the intrusion felt illegal either way. A small girl peeked out her stall, thankfully fully clothed, gazing around before retreating again. The trickle of blood from her arm was visible, it plopped onto the tiled floor like syrup.
Mitsuba dragged himself off the wall he clung to, curious to the bloody pool that formed at her feet. He knew snooping was bad, Minamoto had scolded him hundreds of times on that, but his curiosity was impossible to override. He walked through the stall door, but remained only half phased in it to avoid an awkward cramp. The sight wasn’t violent compared to the carnage he faced every meal time, but it was… new.
The girl was sitting there, shaking like a leaf while clutching her bloody arm. Her childish pigtails meant nothing to the dread carved into her skin, wounds that signified teenage suffering and not a baby’s scratch. Mitsuba stared, he didn’t make any move to stop her as she flicked a razor across her arm. A cut opened up, gaping and dreadfully white. She swiped on the same cut, gritting her teeth as yellow clusters appeared. Soon her skin and fat was covered in a sea of red. As her eyes filled with panic, the blood pouring unmanageably, Mitsuba still stared, gawking at the behavior. He couldn’t wrap his head around humans, especially not the ones that purposely killed themselves. There were bloody footprints by the ghost as he left, permitting the girl to her own self destruction, and taking some of it on the bottom of his shoe as a souvenir.
He perched himself in a window, his neck cold against the glass. The rain refused to calm, and water even seeped through the ceiling tiles. Mildew and moisture practically choked him out as he sat there, simply watching kids pack up to leave. What made them so human? They laughed and communicated, they acted according to their species. But that didn’t make them human, did it? They had solid bodies and souls of truth, but that wasn’t it either. He always circled back to the girl cutting herself, memorizing the wrinkles in her eyebrows as she cut and cut and cut. Was pain the sole definition of the near shore, something they all feel? Sure, every other emotion could be tried the same, but pain was the most straight forward and common phenomenon of anything living.
Yeah, that was it, Mitsuba decided. Living causes pain, and pain is the indicator of life, or whatever. Despite the raging storm, all the students who didn’t stay for club scrambled out the school doors, and out into the wilderness. Mitsuba peeked out as he saw a panicked girl searching her bag for an umbrella. Next to him stood one, and he made sure it wasn’t the ugly one Minamoto lumbered around before grabbing it and skipping out. Mitsuba held it out, saying something while trying to smile, but his voice was drowned out by rain and the sinking fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. The girl jumped as an umbrella toppled to her feet, glancing in every direction but Mitsuba’s. He thought for a moment she had caught his eyes, until she walked right through him, leaving the ghost in the rain, pissed and now soggy.
It was late now. Mitsuba had watched from afar as Minamoto, Radish-Senpai, and that wretched toilet ghost chatted, giggling until all the club meetings were ended by a ringing bell. Hanako walked Nene to the school doors, though a lingering disappointment was visible in his smile. Kou followed after her, glancing back as if looking for someone, but Mitsuba was hiding behind a locker, sticking his tongue out as if he could see. Despite his ignorant nature, Mitsuba felt a pit in his throat as he watched Kou and Nene huddling under the same umbrella. They hurried off into the fogged streets, talking and giggling. Human love was annoying, and utterly disgusting.
“Number Three? Don’t tell me you’re supposed to be hiding right now.” Hanako turned around, his typical smirk on his face, somehow more infuriating than an insult.
“What?” Mitsuba blinked, before glancing at himself. He was practically standing in plain sight, not realizing he had gotten so close to see such a redundant view. “Fuck you. Atleast my girl didn’t get stolen by a lame-o traffic earring guy.”
“Don’t act like that isn’t your problem too, Number Three.” Hanako was still staring out the door, eerily still.
“How is it my problem? I’d never like a girl with such fat ankles.” Mitsuba huffed.
“You know, the boy will grow up while you stay a snag in time. What’ll you do when he graduates? Confess your love to a married man?” The voice came from Hanako’s mouth, but it wasn’t him talking. The world was frozen, any passing students ceased to exist. Even the rain outside had frozen, the droplets still as they crashed against pavement. Mitsuba walked up to the other ghost, but he disappeared the moment he got close. He dug his nails into his palm, and felt nothing but scratchy skin. He knew what this was now.
A lucid dream, they called it? Mitsuba didn’t remember falling asleep, but he did remeber that inside the confines of a dream, anything was possible. He knew he wouldn’t be asleep longer, yet he already ran wild imagining ways to build his escape here. The sky had cleared and the sun shone into the frosted windows. A bird even passed by, perching on a wire fence, his green and blue chest puffed.
Mitsuba adjusted his scarf to find a camera at his neck. He fidgeted with the device, before finally hearing a click. Expectantly, the picture was blurry and unprofessional. The glass doors lacked their typical coolness, everything lacked its feel. It was unnerving running his fingers over a rimmed edge and being unable to recognize the touch as his own. Though, without much to do, Mitsuba slipped outside, skipping along the school gardens until he saw a nest of pigeons. A tomato plant trailed up to where it was sat, vining and cradling the crying babies.
Snap. Snap again. Snap again. No, none of the pictures were right. They were blurry, and each one got darker until the camera refused to show them. Mitsuba sighed, setting the camera to sulk against his neck. When he glanced up from his sneakers, the pigeons had grown puffy, round and the last one fluttered from the nest.
This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be a half-assed photographer like Sousuke, he simply wanted to be human. Mitsuba walked until the gardens morphed to green blobs, then to grey. Counters and marble countertops formed, but any food items on the counters read nonsense and were unmovable. His sense of smell was useless, but as if he knew this scene already, curry was simmering on the stove. Now he was taller, his dark brown hair sulked against his nurse uniform as he approached a note upon the fridge.
“forgot potatoes. be back soon”
Somebody was crouched on the floor, sobbing and shaking, it wasn’t Mitsuba anymore. He had returned to himself and now stood watching. His mind seemed to have placed him into someone else for a moment to taunt him, for a second he had a beating heart and body warmth. He had something to hold and something to lose.
Mitsuba lost it. Now he was in a bright, sunlit classroom, wearing a blazer and tie. A blonde with an ugly earring stared at him, bewildered at the hand Mitsuba held out. Hesitantly, he took it, but the lack of touch reminded him where he really was right now. Warmth was all he craved to feel, not the faux feeling of skin touching when it’s not.
Warmth. A warm, beating heart was held out to him. Tsukasa’s hands ended up as mangled worms, Mitsuba unable to remeber his fingers past the blood. The room was dark, and full of implacable objects his mind desperately tried to fill the space of. Thump. Thump. That was all that was clear, the blood that spurted from the severed tubes, the agonizing beat. Mitsuba wasn’t the one who swallowed it, he felt more as if he was watching a movie. He felt the meat and grit down his throat, but only as a swallow of spit.
Mitsuba begged at himself to get up. He knew his mind was in charge of every step, and it wasn’t surprising it chose to torment him. Stranded, he simply opted to shut his eyes as long and as tight as he could until he awoke. Things began to whisper, noises, memories, they all overlapped into a lament. Even the familiar dark of his eyelids were violated by visions, smiles of someone he once knew that grew more disfigured the harder he squinted. Disgusting, disgusting, Mitsuba dug his fingers into his palms and still felt nothing. Nothing, no pain, nothing. He was a lump of cold flesh, one that felt no pain, for even its nerves were artificial. Pain defined life, and it decided he had none, at least here.
He needed pain, he knew he wasn’t alien to the sensation. Something grounding. Despite the breath that ran down his neck, the presence of something staring him down, Mitsuba swallowed and opened his eyes. Nobody was here. He was back in an empty school hallway, against a window. All his senses were knocked out, apparently, and the sensation was one of living in a picture. It’s there, but only if you concentrate. You can imagine yourself touching the walls, hugging a loved one, living a life, but you can never hold it, have it, or technically really see it.
Paranoid now, he didn’t look up from his feet as he crossed the hallway, students filling the space quick. He practically felt them taking his air, everything stuffy against his skin and— hard? Mitsuba flinched as a folder whipped him in the face, and the pleading apologies of a student following after. He stood frozen as the kid ran away. More students politely went around him, or shoved him, given he was in the middle of the hallway, some even asking what was up. Though, it was all static. People blurred into soggy watercolor paintings, their eyes melted to their knees and you could see their spine out their mouth. Any thought he had at the moment, everything, it was there. A bird in the window, that one perverted tv show, a home cooked meal, dead corpses, storybooks. Mitsuba couldn’t even look at anything, it was all mind games, and it took shaky hands to press his nails to his palm. Somebody stopped him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away quite forcefully.
Kou was here, standing there with his freckled face and blonde hair that didn’t quite compliment his tan. Everything else ceased to exist.
“Mitsuba?”
Mitsuba didn’t say anything, he noticed his earring was on a different ear. Kou called out again, but when he got no reply, he gripped Mitsuba’s wrist so hard he heard a snap. He flinched, but the pain was absent, and it helped that he was staring at the ground like a lost puppy and not his ‘injury’.
“Mitsuba-chann?” Now Tsukasa was calling out. Mitsuba squeaked, afraid to stare at his pale, dead hand that gripped him. Desperately, he tried to pull and writhe away, but he found no energy after a minute.
“Come on, you’re hungry, aren’t you? Eat.” Tsukasa held out a bloodied heart, not even caring to scrape off any fur or fat. He prodded in Mitsuba’s face, inching closer and closer.
“Eat, eat! You like it, don’t you? You look like you’re dying to eat.”
Disgusting. Utterly gross. It was still beating. It was still alive, staring at him and crying.
“No— thanks..” Mitsuba whispered. The two words seemed to have annoyed the boy.
“No thanks? Eat it! Eat it!” The heart was shoved further into his face, Tsukasa trying to dig his nails into Mitsuba’s mouth. He turned his head away but his fingers always found themselves back.
“No! I’m not eating that!”
Tsukasa froze. His whole being just… stopped? The heart plopped onto the ground, and his grip loosened enough for Mitsuba to squirm away. He didn’t blink, just stood there covered in blood and—
Mitsuba was really hungry. He approached Tsukasa like a wild animal, flinching at his own feet and poking at him everywhere. Yet nothing moved. And he was really hungry. The heart was just behind his sneaker, but he lunged and ripped his teeth into Tsukasa’s throat instead. It was downhill from there.
Only when he heard the rip and the blood spurting everywhere was when the color of the ghost’s skin gained color. Tan. Mitsuba didn’t open his eyes, though, he was ontop of a body, ripping and gnawing with his hands. After the face had been chewed up to stringy meat and bone, the monster tried to slam the chest in, but failed and instead sunk into the stomach. Gurgling blood and mushy, slick fat, he shoved his hand so far into the body something thudded against his finger tips. The monster ripped out Kou’s heart, holding it to his lips as it drummed. He only opened his eyes after he took a bite, and screamed so loud he woken up.
Mitsuba jerked awake, he was still against the window, except it was warm with either the sunset or sunrise. He didn’t care to check as he lumbered off, his dream already slipping from him. It was the second one this week where he ate somebody, a warning sign he had to eat soon. Clambering through a mirror, he collapsed on the floor of his boundary and punched himself. It hurt, obviously, but it meant he was awake. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Was he awake though? What if that was just a coincidence? So, he hit himself again. Same sting, same doubts. Mitsuba blinked at the endless cascade of mirrors, trying to align his thoughts. He went down to tie his shoe, before noticing the blood on his sole. Not the best reminder of when he snuck into a girls stall, but it definitely inspired something.
Mitsuba only had to walk so much until he found a broken shard of glass, picking it up and rolling it around in his fingers. He rehearsed the girls actions like a fucked up slime tutorial, sliding up his sleeve, picking a spot and going ham.
The first cut was hesitant. It didn’t bleed, causing him to frown, he didn’t feel a bit. So Mitsuba pressed harder, he swiped quicker, and once he had got his first gaping cut, smiled. They stung and burned, as if a dog had taken a piece of him, but he cherished it like a good memory. He had the confirmation, he was awake, it was over for now. Yet, the urges didn’t stop, they got louder, even while his whole arm was shaking in blood. One more. Just another one after that. And— once he got a good grip, Mitsuba swiped mindlessly, uncaring that the glass got stuck in his cuts.
He felt pain.
He was alive. Living. Not dead, no he wasn’t dead. Though, as the blood dried and stuck like ugly scales, Mitsuba figured he should get up. He headed for a bathroom, assuming it to be empty, but froze halfway through the mirror when Kou stared up at him, washing his hands.
“Mitsuba! You’ve been gone the past few days, you sore loser.” Kou barked. He glanced back down to turn off the faucet, but caught a glimpse of Mitsuba’s mutilated arm before he snuck it back.
“Oi, what happened? You’re getting blood all over the sink!” He frowned, wiping up droplets that fell.
Mitsuba turned around, but was dragged back as Kou grabbed his wrist. He winced at the pressure, nearly growling like an animal, before swallowing his pain and biting his cheek. Kou hadn’t realized how much blood there was until it was soaking through Mitsuba’s sleeve onto his fingers.
“Did the twerp mess with you?” Kou loosened his grip to only hold his sweater.
“No.”
“You sure? He’s suspicious, you shouldn’t be near him! Don’t forget what he did to—“
“I don’t care, Minamoto-kun!” Mitsuba barked. His head was beginning to ache, and the fading thrill left him with an annoyingly painful arm. “Can’t you just quit playing hero?”
Kou blinked, before turning away and leaving the bathroom. Mitsuba didn’t ponder on it, crawling fully out the mirror and rinsing blood off himself. He hadn’t realized it smudged on his face, a streak right across his mouth until he looked up.
A fly danced around the sunlight, stained red and blue by the colorful glass it flooded through. Mitsuba watched it buzz around until a loud slam scared it out the air. Kou stood the doorway, a plastic bag hanging from his bandaged fingers.
“Dude, go away. There’s literally like six other bathrooms.” Mitsuba pulled his sleeve back over his cuts, feeling the fabric shift the glass shards nestled into his flesh.
“You think I don’t notice something’s up? You disappear for days— then show up covered in blood and all tussled.” Kou hissed, stepping over despite his friend’s sour glare. “I know damn well you don’t like to walk around looking like a mess unless something happened.”
“A mess? You’re calling me a mess with that earring?” He scoffed, trying his hardest to remain bratty despite the gnawing in his head. Not only was it the pain, but the hunger that was getting to him.
“Come on, Mitsuba! What is up with you?”
Mitsuba wasn’t listening, he was clenching his jaw as his stomach harassed him. He didn’t remember the last time he ate, he didn’t want to remember because it meant remembering who he ate, what it made him, and what it kept him from being.
Disgusting, disgusting, he was no better than a wild dog. Though Kou stood there with his infuriating worry, all Mitsuba saw was meat. He dug his fingers into his palms, horrified to feel the press into his skin. He jumped forward, teeth bared as he bit around hysterically. He saw blobs of movement, but his vision useless as the scent of hunger clogged his sense. Panic set in as he tried to compose himself, yet his body remained poised to bite. Disgusting it was— but what else could he do? He was just hungry, so so hungry that he’d eat anything. Mitsuba didn’t think before he sank his teeth into skin, a moist crunch as he ripped a small chunk of flesh, the action composing him. He blinked to see his own arm oozing blood and missing a chunk of itself.
Kou stared at him, fear was absent from his eyes. Mitsuba stood there, shaking and staring at him like a rabid animal, hunger still glistening in his bloodied teeth. His pupils swallowed his eyes and his chest heaved unsteadily, but he wasn’t totally gone yet. Everyone knows not to approach a dog who’d mauled many people before, but it’s harder when he used to be your pet, a puppy with a wagging tail in your lap.
“Mitsuba…” Kou sighed, reaching out to the boy before drawing away. “I won’t push you to open up— but can you at least let me help?” He dug through the bag, pulling out a small heart inside a plastic wrap. The sight made Mitsuba whine with nausea, he backed into a corner, kneeling down and wiping drool from his lips.
“I could tell you were getting hungry, nearly like how girls know when their friend’s periods are coming.” He sat down on the floor.
Mitsuba snickered at the comment while trying to smooth his hair that melted and grew eyes. Kou unwrapped the heart, warming it with his hands until he brought it to his mouth— taking a hearty bite of it then rolling it to the supernatural.
The blonde gagged, the stringy and raw flesh stuck in his teeth, but he clenched his fists and swallowed it anyway.
“Eugh— god that tastes like shit!” Kou groaned, “Look, I took a bite and I’m still plenty human. Now it’s your turn, eat. It ain’t make you any less of a person.”
Mitsuba was quiet as he took the heart in his hands, eyes tightly shut as he swallowed the nasty tendons. Once it fell down his throat, he felt his breath slow and his senses clearing. He couldn’t help but laugh as Kou bent over the sink, picking meat out his teeth.
“Oi, don’t laugh! Next time I’ll cook it, and gladly eat it all!” He barked.
“Yeah, sure, it’s all yours. You wouldn’t eat it all, you couldn’t even stomach a bite.” Mitsuba smiled, his voice oddly affectionate. He had totally forgotten about his bleeding wounds, but Kou didn’t seem keen on leaving them be. He sat back down after gagging in the sink, digging bandages and wipes out the bag.
“Why do you have all this stuff?” Mitsuba tried to peek inside, but Kou pushed the bag away. He moved the other boy’s sleeve back up, wiping the crusted cuts and the new, bloody bite.
“I figure I’d be dealing with you sooner or later— so I just shoved everything in my locker for when you’d do something stupid.” Kou discarded the dirty wipes.
Mitsuba hummed sarcastically, “Woooww, thanks Minamoto-kun. You’re saying I can’t handle myself?”
“Yeah, hundred percent.”
“Fuck you.”
The rip of the bandage signaled that Kou had finished wrapping his wounds, Mitsuba immediately drew his arm back and let his sleeve down. He moved to stand and escape the situation, but the blonde pushed him to sit again.
Mitsuba opened his mouth to insult him, but was shut up as Kou wiped his face, cleaning the blood from his mouth. A thin piece of fabric was all that kept Kou’s fingers from Mitsuba’s lips.
“Glad you didn’t bite me this time.” Kou withdrew, a subtle blush on his face as he looked away.
“Don’t jinx it.” Mitsuba smirked, bringing his fingers to touch where Kou’s fingers had been.
They were quiet for a few minutes, savoring the silent truce they had forged. Eventually Kou had stood up as the bell rang, Mitsuba staggering after him.
“Oh— these are for you, incase you wanted to get rid of the taste,” Kou dug the last thing out the bag, holding out some pink candies and a soda.
Mitsuba was shocked by the gesture, but took the gift in his hand gratefully. He took Kou’s hand with his free hand, bringing the bandaged fingers to his lips without thinking about it. “This is for you, to ruin your day. Have fun focusing on your test second period.” Mitsuba snickered.
Before Mitsuba could even get another jab out, Kou muttered a mouthful of insults while being called by his friends who passed in the hallway. He choked out a half-assed goodbye, then skipping out the bathroom. When they asked, Kou blamed his red face on the weather. It was January. If Mitsuba wasn’t anything, he certainly wasn’t convinced the day had been a total waste.