Ghost Hunt 
by No. 13

“O-ni-san.” The ghost girl had stopped at the pond’s shoreline. Her white skin glowing within the dark night, illuminating the soft grass underneath her feet, the long, softly swaying tree branches behind her.

Behind her small form, the water glittered eerily in this moonless night.

Tezuka stopped, not even feeling his heart’s frantic pounding anymore. The blood rushing in his ears had given away to the feeling of darkness surging up within his own chest and fear constricting his lungs painfully.

She had led him back. Back to the place where she had died.

And it all left his mind so terrifyingly, utterly blank. He didn’t understand the implications, hell, he’d stopped understanding what happened already hours ago. Yet his logical mind had struggled, carried on through the disaster inside, barely survived the confrontation – but now…

There was maybe a spark of realization still buried deep in his mind, but already this shard was to horrifying, to ominous to be brought to the forefront and considered.

And he still didn’t know what to do.

“Will you follow her into the water?” a smooth voice suddenly purred behind him, blending perfectly with the tranquil movement of the ancient willow’s branches that were gently touching the water’s surface.

“Will you follow her and die?”

Amane stood a few steps away. A beautiful flower among black, thorny bushes.

“Die, cold and alone?”

Her face was pale, paler than before, Tezuka could tell, yet it had lost nothing of its initial beauty. Fujiwara Amane gestured more elegant than ever, a hand reaching gently out in his direction, and the wide sleeve swinging like a rare butterfly’s richly ornamented wing.

“With your love forever…”

And abruptly, she faltered.

Tezuka’s eyes widened, instinctively he wanted to reach out, seeing Fuji bending over for a split second, yet managed to reign himself in the last instant.

Instead, he watched wide-eyed, as Fujiwara Amane turned her face away to cough. That small hand reached up to wipe at her lips was shaking badly and came away stained with glittering red.

And somehow, for some illogical, indescribable reason his formerly frozen heart started aching.

“Tezuka-kun…” Amane whispered, uncharacteristically gentle. Her face was strained, but her eyes glittered with thousands of unvoiced emotions.

“Don’t choose such a lonely fate. Don’t…”

She struggled for words and Tezuka could hear each laboured breath as the wind died down. Silence settled, grave and oppressing, even as he blinked as moisture began blurring his own vision.

“Don’t make us all die for nothing, Tezuka-kun!”

Dark, beseeching, entrancing and yet sparkling with untainted emotions, Amane’s eyes bored into his own, pleading for an understanding he wasn’t capable of.

His eyes were fixed in horrified fascination at the blood staining the edge of her lips, blood, that slowly before his eyes began to trickle downwards even without further coughing.

This meant…

She was swaying when she took the next step forward. Soft, moist grass swallowed every sound, only a soft rustling of her clothes; the pounding of his aching heart and her heaving breath broke the absolute stillness.

“Tezuka-kun, if you understand love, if you really loved that boy, if you really loved him, don’t let this have happened in vain. Don’t forsake all of us!”

Amane reached out, her hand only a hair’s breathe away from his shoulder. He could feel the warmth radiating from her body, feverish and throbbing. Her gasps forming small, white clouds in the icy darkness.

“Don’t!” she whispered, and Tezuka saw tears gleaming in her eyes. Heart-wrenchingly real tears of true desperation. Now matter how sugar-coated her voice might have been only minutes ago, how malicious and cruel her laughter – now, all Tezuka saw, was the human being. Not the demon.

But a human, who only longed for the most human thing a heart could ever desire – love.

Just as he himself.

It was the last wish left in his upset heart. He’d given up all the notions of saving everybody long ago, conceded his own powerlessness the first time he’d confronted the ghost. And when the little girl had died and everything had taken a drastic turn for the worse, all he could pray for was a happy ending. Somehow, somewhat, a happy ending for everybody involved.

But now, that the ghosts had succeeded with their ceremony, that he had left Fuji Yumiko for dead on the cold marble floor, that the one he had wanted to protect at all costs was perhaps already lost – all that he had left was to cling onto those frail, fleeting feelings.

And if somehow, somehow he could make things alright again…

… he’d do it in a second.

Even if it cost his life.

Tezuka slowly raised his head, Amane’s sorrow reflected in his own eyes. ‘Go on.’ He willed her silently, with his body slowly growing numb from the cold, ‘Go on.’

… because in a night that cold and dark, with his heart already torn to shreds and his most precious person lost to the darkness, death didn’t scare him anymore.

Amane smiled. An honest, radiant smile expressing a sentiment deeper than gratitude, displaying a previously unknown degree of gratitude.

And then she closed the gap.

One step forward, cold metal glinted for a split second in the tranquil night and then Tezuka felt a warm body pressing up to his own. Felt that thin chest heaving with each painfully drawn breath, felt numbness spreading from his own stomach.

Her smile was so radiant; he didn’t want to take his eyes away. Didn’t want to look down, to where hot-blood suddenly was trickling from his body.

He felt so numb. Only his breath forming small white clouds in the dark night air told him of the coldness surrounding them. Only the sensation of hot liquid soaking through his clothes …

And yet there was no pain. A faint onset of dizziness; but he couldn’t even tell if his heart was beating faster than before. If he hadn’t been gasping for air before.

“You’re a good boy, Tezuka-kun.” Amane whispered, still leaning against him, with hand, still clutching the pin, hanging limply at her side. Her smile was strained, and the pain obviously reflected in her eyes, “You…”

She choked abruptly. Tezuka could feel her body shuddering, saw the golden, now blood-stained hairpin slip out of her cold, cold fingers.

His vision suddenly blurred. Somewhere, very, very distant, he was struck with a flash of blinding pain. Holding his breath, he unconsciously put a hand on his stomach. And found the horrifying realization that had already set off the alarm bells in his head verified.

The entire front of his sweater was soaked. Soaked and frighteningly warm, and he could feel even more liquid trickling over his fingers.

… was he going to soon?

The panic rising up in his mind was suffocated before even a clear thought could form, Amane’s soft voice – suddenly so much like Fuji’s again – cut through the fog.

“Why?”

She whispered, her entire body trembling.

“Why isn’t it working?”

Desperation and confusion glittered in her eyes, silently pleading for an answer that Tezuka couldn’t give. No matter how frantically the wheels in his mind where turning, no matter how the sight of unshed tears sparkling in her eyes moved his heart, he remained unable to answer.

Breathless and helpless to stop his own confusion, to stop the time that was slipping away, quietly like sand, like the blood trickling from his stomach. His mind was screaming, screeching in terror; this was his life, slowly running through his fingers.

And yet the night remained quiet and undisturbed. The lake’s surface calm behind them, reflecting their silhouettes as one, the willow’s long branches swaying softly, and grey fog rose to surround the two.

Was this his vision fading?

Was this the end?

Tezuka’s heart trembled, too many thoughts racing to his mind to form a clear one, bursting from pain, regret and countless, terrifyingly countless other emotions.

But the greyness took no notice of his struggle. Its growth continued, not giving Tezuka time to calm his soul, not granting him even a minute to regain a semblance of equilibrium.

“Amane!”

For a split second he wondered whether he was seeing things. Maybe the blood loss was graver than expected, maybe this was only his struggling brain trying to compensate for his failing vision… maybe everything had gone to his head and he was losing his mind together with his life now.

But the form arising out of the fog was no unfamiliar face. Grey-face as he had first seen him, his limps only vaguely defined shapes of darker-than-usual fog, Tatsunori Ichirou appeared at their side.

His feature’s, pale and instable as they were, showed sorrow and frustration. Lips drawn into a firm line, yet his eyes still appeared suspiciously soft as his gaze focused on Amane’s shivering form.

“Amane.” His voice was…. dejected, disappointed, relieved, angry and glad at ones. So many nuances to one word, so many meanings to one whispered name.

“Ichirou…” horrified disbelief painted her face even whiter, “…what is happening?”

Her left hand, still resting on Tezuka’s shoulder, trembled like a leaf in an autumn storm. Her breath came in gasps, and it was obvious that even the multi-layered kimono didn’t protect her from the cold any longer.

There was no type of clothing to ward off this type of cold. The ice that made blood freeze, that crept through veins, slowly squeezing the life out of every limp, closing in around the heart… and then, when everything else was already dead, lost and forever destroyed, the heart, too, would freeze. Freeze and shatter into a milliard tiny pieces.

“Shouldn’t you be…” Amane choked, eyes pained and frantically searching her beloved for a sign of that this wasn’t true, that this wasn’t happening, that they were being granted their happy ending after all, “Why are we like this? Shouldn’t we be…?”

He only shook his head, slowly and regretfully. “The spell…”

“The spell is complete!” Amane interrupted suddenly, in a pretence of fury to cover her growing desperation. “No matter what that girl did, the 66 souls are complete!”

“Yes.” Tatsunori replied in a choked voice “Yes, we have 66 souls.”

“She might have ripped one from the equation, but I found a replacement!” Amane declared loudly, challenging the scene reality showed her.

“Yes.” Tatsunori agreed quietly, and pain-filled eyes strayed over to Tezuka. “But you took him as a replacement.”

Tezuka suddenly felt like falling. Any thoughts concerning his injury were gone, blow away, only him and a black abyss in front of his feet left, and he wasn’t sure whether he wasn’t already tumbling downwards.

“The only person we weren’t allowed to touch.”

Amane’s eyes widened dramatically, drawing a shocked gasp, she whipped around, almost falling over in the process, her eyes searching Tezuka’s face.

“…no…”

Was the fog lifting? Were Tatsunori’s limbs slowly but certainly growing transparent? Was… what was happening?

“The condition under which we were granted a vessel… the only condition binding us… was not to hurt that boy.”

Frozen stiff from the chill, Tezuka barely even dared to breath. Only the hot liquid trickling slowly from his stomach told him he was still alive. But with his vision darkening, and his heart fluttering madly, he didn’t know what to believe anymore. … maybe he was hallucinating, maybe everything was…

A dream?

“Amane.” Tatsunori whispered, face sad, but there was a gentle expression lingering on it as his eyes rested on Amane’s frail form.

“It’s over.” For a moment he gazed around, taking in the darkness, the undisturbed surface of the water, the tall, bending willow trees, the soft grass underneath.

… he was saying goodbye…

“For good.” And then, with a heart-wrenchingly warm smile he reached out, cupping Amane’s cold cheek with a grey, vaguely hand-shaped limb.

“Amane. This time…”

Had he been human, he’d have been crying.

“Let’s go together.”

Before the tears glittering in her eyes could spill over, Amane blinked slowly, once, twice, then drawing a deep breath to still the tremors cursing through her body even if only for a moment.

“Yes.” She replied, a brilliant smile on her face. “Yes. Let’s go together.”

For a moment her face seemed to glow in the darkness, more beautiful and enchanting than before, a smile more radiant than the sun and Tezuka felt warmth creep back into his frozen heart, felt a numb pulse drum within the depths of his stomach, felt hot tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.

The fog was almost completely translucent now. Tatsunori’s face began losing its contours, his feet had long since gone and by now he was no more than a speck of a grey cloud left hanging in an icy cold night, condemned to fade completely.

… and yet, his eyes, fixed on his beloved’s breath-taking smile, were happy.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And then, they were gone.

Tezuka blinked, surprised, as the mist abruptly disappeared. Amane – no, Fuji – crumpled abruptly, no spirit left keeping his weakened body standing. Instinctively Tezuka reached out, catching his friend by the shoulder.

The sudden motion send a shudder down his spine, tore slightly at his shoulder, but everything faded to nothing, when compared to the white-hot stab of pain that attacked his stomach.

Gasping, but unable to draw breath, with black spots dancing in front of his vision, he sunk to his knees. Desperately clenching his teeth, he kept his hold on Fuji, refusing to let go, even if the pain was blinding him.

Limp like a doll Fuji fell into his lap. Head lolling back, soft brown hair fanning out over Tezuka’s blood-soaked coat and his face was whiter than snow.

The night around them was cold and silent, but for Tezuka’s gasps. He felt dizzy, wondered dimly whether his injury would turn out to be fatal in the end, but he couldn’t care less, not when Fuji’s motionless body finally rested in his arms.

“Fuji…” he whispered, voice hoarse, choked with uncountable emotions.

But the body in his arms failed to stir.

Cold panic crawled through his veins; ignoring his own injury, Tezuka gently shook his friend’s small form.

“No…” he unconsciously muttered, desperately wanting to deny the sight meeting his eyes, not wanting to believe to harsh reality reflecting on the lake’s black surface in a cold November night.

“Fuji… please…”

The tears in his eyes were burning hotter than the blood still trickling from his wound, slowly adding red patches to the collar of Fuji’s splendid kimono, adding shades of red where pale gold and whites and shades of pearly previously had ruled sorely.

“Please… don’t!”

Something wet, hot slid down his cheek, but Tezuka didn’t feel it. Reality had ceased to exist, no more willow trees, no more soft grass underneath, only that fragile body in his arms mattered.

“Don’t leave me!”

Pressing his eyes shut, he desperately clutched Fuji’s unresisting form to his chest, heart torn into pieces.

“Don’t! I… I…”

He didn’t want to believe it was too late. He didn’t want to… to survive only to find the person he wanted to share his life with dead in his arms. He didn’t want to…

… to face that he might just have realized his feelings too late.

Hell, he still couldn’t tell if this was love. But it was tearing his heart into pieces. It was forcing tears out of eyes that hadn’t cried in years. It was telling him that it was this person he cared for more than for anybody else. It was this person he wanted to spend more time with.

It was this feeling that rendered him crying, clutching Fuji like a lifeline, kneeling outside in a harsh, cold night.

“I…”

“Ne, Tezuka.”

A soft, gentle, and painfully familiar voice suddenly cut through the haze of despair and hopelessness surrounding him. Almost blinded from the adrenalin surge Tezuka’s head shot up, eyes wide, painfully confused and disbelieving.

A friendly smile greeted him.

“Fu…”

Standing – or rather – floating, no more than a mere metre in front of him, softly glowing in the nightly darkness, was Fuji. All colour had been bleached out, his form hovered half-transparent over frozen grass, yet the smile remained the same.

Only a bit on the sad side, this time.

“I’m sorry about this.” Fuji wistfully glanced around, for once unbothered by a weakened physical condition, “I’m sorry you got injured.”

His eyes came to rest on Tezuka. Where the injury was hidden by the limp body Tezuka was clutching to his chest.

“I … I didn’t want this to happen. I even made them promise…” he trailed of, blinking once, “But I guess it didn’t work. I’m honestly sorry, Tezuka.”

“Fuji…” Tezuka uttered, completely dumbfounded. The words his friend was saying were heart-wrenchingly sweet, but oh so dreadfully, frightening wrong in their finality. Fuji was saying so little, so little Tezuka right now wanted to hear.

Because, he wanted the impossible, didn’t he?

Wanted to embrace a living, breathing and healthy Fuji, wanted to tell him that he cared, wanted to draw him into his arms, even now, that the tansluscent form in front of his eyes was surely a ghost.

Which meant…

“But still, thank you, Tezuka.” Fuji carried on, ignorant of the feelings tormenting his friend, “Thank you so much.”

This smile – this heart-breaking sweet smile. Tezuka would give his soul to see it in his life, only once more. Only once, only one real smile, one more not painted onto a ghost’s face.

“Thank you for being here with me. Tonight. And thank you for all the other times, too. Thank you for everything.”

“No.” Tezuka uttered, frightened of what the finality shaking Fuji’s even voice implied. “No!”

Fuji closed his eyes, and smiled even brighter.

“I’m glad I met you, Tezuka.”

“No! Don’t leave me!” Tezuka yelled abruptly. Fuji’s eyes snapped wide open, just as pain exploded from his stomach, leaving Tezuka sinking backwards slowly, painfully gasping for air.

“Tezuka?” bewilderment coloured that gentle voice.

“Don’t.” Tezuka whispered, his strength giving out, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. The last thing he saw was Fuji smiling expectantly at him, head slightly tilted as was his usual wont and all he knew was he wouldn’t survive losing this person.

“Don’t leave me.” Tezuka mumbled, as his vision faded to black. “Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have suggestions or comments, please share them with me.

On to Chapter 17~