[Gackt’s POV]
After we moved to
The other kids would never see the things I
did. Whenever I told them what I was
looking at, they’d wrinkle up their noses, squint in the direction of my gaze,
look at me funny, then run away. All of them…all of them…except…Ren.
I remember the first time I met him. Usually, none of the bouncing, squealing kids
could distract me from what I came there to do.
See, if I didn’t keep my eyes on them, they’d disappear then reappear
next to me. This act would achieve the
desired effect of scaring the shit out of a 9-year-old boy who everyone already
thought was nuts. My customary response
was to cry out loudly and jump onto my feet, tumble over, and scramble away as
fast as my pre-adolescent hands and knees could carry me. But for some reason, a tiny, coiled ball of
energy managed to do what the other children could not.
Bounding up to the jungle gym that I was sitting on
top of, he hastily climbed the rungs up to me.
When he got close enough, I sneaked a few glances in his direction. He was, at that time, a pudgy little thing,
with fluffy brown hair and bright, dark eyes.
His mannerisms told me that he had to be only five or six or maybe even
as old as me. “Are you playing a game?”
he asked. I shook my head. Glancing off into the chaos that was the
playground and back at me, he then questioned, “What are you looking at?”
“Something.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?” Wiggling through a hole in the rungs, he hooked his legs around one of
the bars and promptly hung upside down, looking up at me through said
hole. His blue shirt slid up to his
armpits.
“Because you can’t see them
anyway.”
“Who?”
“Ghosts.”
“Ghosts?” I nodded. He was interested now. His tiny hands wrapped around the rods and
pulled himself up again to look at me.
He blinked his dark eyes. Rubbing
them, he squinted off into the distance.
After a few moments of unsuccessful searching he glanced back at me and
stated, “You’re right – I can’t see them.”
“No one can.
No one but me.”
“Don’t they want to be seen by other people?”
I was about to answer when something stopped
me. I dragged my eyes away from the sad little
spectral girl who sat on the swings, her sunken eyes staring at me, and looked
at this vibrant living creature sitting next to me. “You believe me?”
“Why not? Just because I can’t see them
doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
I blinked incredulously at him. It was the first time in my short life that
anyone, besides my grandmother, had ever said that they thought I was telling
the truth about them. Something shot through me then. It pulled at my heart and made unshed tears
well in my eyes. I wanted to hug this
strange, trusting boy and never let go.
I wanted to take him to my parents and say, “See? Someone believes me!” But instead…I just stared at him.
He stared right back. A few minutes of absolute silence passed
between us.
Then he asked, “What’s your name?”
This took me aback.
First he believes my ghost stories and then he wants to know name? “Um…Satoru…”
“I’m Ren! I
live with my mom…over there I think,” he pointed over my shoulder briefly. “Past the train station. She works at the big building over there,” he
pointed over my other shoulder, “and my grandma brings me here.” He smiled.
“I have a cat. Do you have a
pet?”
I blinked, stunned at his short speech and
autobiography. “No…my mom’s allergic.”
“Oh. What’s
‘allergic?’” He struggled with the
pronunciation of the unfamiliar word.
“It means she can’t have whatever it is in the
house.”
“Oh…kind of like men and dirt?”
“Huh?”
“My mom says that she,” he puffed up his chest,
“‘won’t tolerate men and dirt.’” He
grinned at me after he recited his mother, still stumbling on some of the
words. He was missing three baby teeth.
“Oh.”
“Do you like drawing?”
More questions?
“Sort of…I don’t think I’m very good at it…”
“You’ll have to show me some of your pictures next
time. I could bring some of mine!”
“Next time?”
“Yeah! Next time. I come here every day. How about you?”
“Yes…unless my parents have to work.”
“Okay!” He
hopped down between the rungs of the jungle gym, landing gracefully on the sand
beneath. He looked up at me, as I did
down to him. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Why do you care?” I asked, still unwilling to
believe that this was really happening.
“We’re friends, silly!” He giggled and gave me another wide
grin. “If you can come tomorrow, I’ll
meet you here, okay?” But before waiting
for an answer, he scuttled out of the metal-and-plastic prison from under one
of the rungs closer to the ground.
Standing up, he dusted himself off and waved. I watched him bolt across the playground to a
woman who stood and smiled at his approach.
Skidding to a halt in front of her, the boy – Ren – tugged on her kimono
and quickly told her about me, pointing in my direction. She stood and smiled again, this time at me,
and waved. Mechanically, I raised my own
arm and waved at them. She gave me one
last smile and took Ren’s hand. He turned once more and offered up another
broad grin as he was led away.
I sat for several minutes on the jungle gym
watching his retreating form. When he
disappeared, I continued to sit, simply stunned.
I…had a…friend.
And his name was Ren.
And
he had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.