A Ghost Story
Another winter comes
His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine
These memories never sleep…..
-from "Ghost Story," by Sting
It had been a perfect spring day. The sky an endless crystal
blue, fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by. Now the golden light
was casting hesitant shadows across the late afternoon landscape, the
yellow-orange sun sinking slowly, reluctantly making way for its
silvery counterpart. Even the sound of the busy Tokyo streets was
somewhat hushed. All up and down the street, shop keeps were
sweeping or bringing displays inside, or just generally starting the
process of cleaning up and closing shop.
On one side of the street a group of teenage girls in school
uniforms walked out of a shop, each carrying a flower or two and
laughing softly to each other. Inside the small shop the soft
whisper of brooms sweeping up leaves and ribbon, paper scraps and
pieces of green foam blocks could be heard. The cash register
rattled to itself thoughtfully for a moment before "chirruping" and
spitting out the cash drawer with a faint ~whir!~ and ~snap!~
Slim golden hands moved nimbly, counting out change and
handing it to the waiting customers, two more high school girls,
their attention so focused on the young man before them they missed
their change the first time he handed it to them. "Domo arigato
gozaimashita," his voice was gentle and husky as he watched the two
leave, still casting wistful glances over their shoulders.
A tiny smile, part amusement, part exasperation and he was
moving out from behind the counter and removing the dark green apron
he wore. "Ken kun, " he sang, "Yoji kun went out to bring in the
display over 30 minutes ago and he hasn't come back yet, could you
please make sure he's still there and not flirting with some of the
girls?"
A dark head poked around the corner from the back room. "Sure
Omi, just let me close up the refrig- oh. Never mind, Aya's got
it." Ken came into the main part of the shop wiping his hands on his
apron, which he then removed and threw on the floor in a heap. "I
got dirty water and chemicals all over it, it needs to be washed or
I'll smell like a stagnant pond next time I wear it, " he grinned
sheepishly. Omi just rolled his eyes, his smile growing just a
little before it was overcome by a yawn.
Smiling sympathetically at his young friend, Ken walked over
to the front door and propped it open as he left. A few moments later
Omi heard a groan from outside. Ken came slouching back inside a few
minutes later, grumbling to himself about, "lazy-ass bums, "
and, "slackers." He clicked a small radio on and carried it closer
to the door so it could be heard outside. Omi sighed, "Yoji kun…."
Another heavy sigh, and then he picked up a broom and began to sweep
up the places that had been missed before.
Outside Yoji was stretching languorously, one hand behind his
head, the other holding a broom. Standing in the fading sunlight, he
looked strangely like a piece of shadow that had somehow broken loose
of its moorings and was now able to move about on its own. Ken
paused; eyes riveted to the older boy's slim form, then shook his
head firmly, blushing.
Clamping down on the feelings that were creeping through his
chest, Ken began picking up potted plants and carrying them inside.
First large ferns, and ivy, and other heavy potted specimens, and
then the smaller hanging plants were hefted and carried inside the
flower shop. Tiny purple, pink, blue, and yellow buds were sprinkled
across the greenery that decorated the sidewalk outside the Koneko no
Sumu-Ie. Little motes of pollen drifted through the air, tickling
Ken's nose as he hefted three pots at a time and carried them to the
cool shadowy recesses of the shop's interior. A quick glance out of
the corner of his eye showed Ken that Yoji was actually doing his
work, albeit slowly and without much enthusiasm.
There was a cigarette dangling from the tall man's lips, and
he somehow managed to make it look artful. Thin trails of gray-white
smoke drifted in intricate patterns around him before dissolving into
the quickly cooling air. The light was deep amber in color now and
you could already see a few stars and a thin slice of moon on the
horizon. As he swept, Yoji watched the point just over the buildings
for the change. And after a few minutes it happened; the sky shifted
subtly, light blue giving way to ever-darker blue before finally
deepening to a rich violet color. He paused in his work. No matter
how many times he saw it, no matter where he was, or what he was
doing, the change from day to night never ceased to awe him.
The tall blonde let his breath out softly, a familiar ache
rising inside him. Another sunset in another time filled his
vision. The memory of soft dark hair by his shoulder and long
moments of contented stillness brushed across his mind, as fleeting
as ghosts. "Asuka." He was startled out of his reverie a few
minutes later by Ken's annoyed voice. "Oi, Yoji! Finish already so
we can close up shop!" Annoyed and relieved all at once, Yoji took
one last draw from the cigarette before flicking it to the ground and
stepping it out. He cast a glance at Ken, "Hey, turn up the radio
Kenken."
Ken glared at the nickname but did as Yoji had asked. It was
a song in English and Yoji didn't recognize it, but it was soft and
appealing. The singer's voice, "an Englishman, " Yoji thought, was
slightly husky and each word sounded as if it was deeply meant.
After a few minutes of listening, he began to hum along quietly.
Ken had finished and was about to close the door when he
noticed Yoji. Something in the other's bearing made the brunette
leave the door propped open and move towards his teammate. He stood
next to him, the other man still sweeping, the day almost gone and
night well on its way. When his voice finally came, it was almost a
whisper, the reverent hush that's usually reserved for churches and
libraries.
"Yoji?" Those few syllables conveyed a question that Ken
couldn't put words to. "Are you okay?" seemed to fall short,
and "what are you thinking?" sounded too nosy, and neither really
expressed his feelings adequately anyway. Yoji looked up from his
sweeping, eyes as mysterious and green as a cat's. The two just
stood there like that for a minute. Caught up in that timeless
moment when it is neither day, nor night, and everything that can,
feels the air thicken with something that can't ever quite be
named.
"Do you believe in ghosts? " Yoji asked, his voice
hushed, "The kind that find a place deep inside your soul, so that no
matter where you go, or what you do, they're always there?"
Ken licked his lips, his eyes glancing towards the darkening
sky and the nearly empty streets, then back to Yoji. "I-I'm not
sure… "he whispered. Ken opened his mouth to ask, `Do you?', but
Yoji smiled just then in a way that seemed to say, "shhh, no
questions, " and though he couldn't have explained why later, Ken
listened. He watched as Yoji set the broom against the side of the
building, then turned and took one of Ken's hands.
"Dance with me, " he said, his neko green eyes full of
mischief. Blinking rapidly, Ken tried to think of some reason to say
no. "B-but, someone might see…," he stammered, a slow blush
spreading across his cheeks, the warm, creeping feeling in his chest
coming back with a vengence.
Blonde eyebrows rose inquisitively. "No one will see us
Ken. The living can't see the dead." He drew Ken gently against
him, wrapping his arms around the younger boy's thin waist. Ken
hesitantly rested his hands on Yoji's shoulders, and they began to
dance.
The English singer's husky voice was still drifting out the
doorway as the two moved gently with small, thoughtful steps. Yoji
looked down at the boy in his arms and knew he was terribly
confused. He knew he should keep his bizarre ramblings to himself,
but it didn't stop him from speaking. Or from sighing at the feel of
the warm body so close to his. He missed this. This feeling of
closeness, sharing the first few moments of darkness with another
person, a person who knew him and accepted him. "Someone I can care
about, " he thought vaguely, breathing in the clean smell of the
silky brown hair under his nose. Leaning close to Ken's ear he
whispered, "Do you know what this song is about?"
Ken shook his head, `no,' and looked up, only to have his
head pushed gently, but firmly against Yoji's shoulder. The two
remained silent for a second, swaying to the music drifting out from
the doorway nearby, their movements a few seconds behind the beat.
After listening for a verse or two and applying his modest knowledge
of the English language, Yoji whispered, "It's about realizing-
admitting, you love someone after it's too late."
Ken's mind was awhirl, trying to understand the strange
things Yoji was saying. Trying to quell the warm feeling slowly
spreading through his body from the pit of his stomach, leaving him
feeling both lethargic and energetic. Finally he gave up, the
sensation too new, and too frighteningly comfortable to elude. He
felt his body relax into Yoji's, starting with his shoulders and
moving down slowly. He wound his arms loosely around the taller
man's neck, the fingers of one hand twining with a few errant
tendrils of honey colored hair. Yoji tightened his grip in response,
letting one hand slide into the silky fall of hair under his chin,
the other pressing warmly against the small of Ken's back.
Long minutes passed, the contented silence broken only by the
satiny whispers of music and breathing. Dozens of stars winked into
view overhead quite suddenly, as if curious to see what was going on
below. A chill wind swept down to wrap lazily around the dancers, but
it went unnoticed, so wrapped up in the moment were they.
And then suddenly it was night. The darkness, which had been
almost reluctant before, was suddenly absolute but for the thousands
of stars sprinkled across the city, some artificial, some not.
Almost simultaneously, the song faded away and was replaced by
something that sounded pre-packaged and trite. A moment later Omi
called from inside the shop, asking if they were done and would they
please lock up?
Yoji moved away from Ken reluctantly, still savoring the
feeling of a moment earlier. He let his hand slide from Ken's hair
slowly, loving the texture and a little surprised to find it in a
male. The shorter brunette stared up at Yoji speculatively; brown
eyes almost black in the shadows, but filled with questions the
blonde man wasn't sure he could answer.
"Arigatou, " he said instead, giving in to his sudden
curiosity in regards to Ken's skin and allowing his fingers to trail
softly against one flushed cheek as he took another step back. Ken's
eyelids fluttered at the contact. Yoji's touch made his skin tingle
and burn, like hot water on his skin after running in the cold. It
was strange and new and unsettling, and it felt good. So Ken stepped
away. It was too much, too fast. He could see Yoji's eyes in the
light from the shop, the green almost eclipsed by the black of his
pupils, strangely sad and curious all at once.
"Betsu ni nandemonai, " he murmured. The silence had become
awkward all of a sudden, both men a little unsettled by their moment
of closeness, more so because it hadn't completely faded after that
moment had passed. The sounds of cars and people laughing and dogs
barking suddenly seemed very loud. Yoji fidgeted for a moment, then
picked up his broom and headed for the shop.
"I'll make sure the back is closed up if you check the front, "
he tossed over his shoulder as he walked towards the yellow rectangle
of light on the sidewalk spilling out from the doorway of the Koneko.
Ken followed more slowly.
He went through the motions of closing up mechanically, checking
the windows, the cashbox, and the door, before moving to pull down
the metal shutter. He paused to look at the moon, and touched his
cheek wonderingly, "I wonder what that was all about, " he
whispered.
owari..
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