Ghost Monk

          
By the time Eiri reached the station, he was more than annoyed. He was almost ready to toss himself in front of a train. The only problem was, someone beat him to it. Standing at the very edge of the platform, a young girl of about seventeen peered out over the tracks. To Eiri, that was nothing new, people did that all the time to check on the arrival of a train. The next action, however, was a bit more unique. As the train reached the platform, she jumped down onto the tracks, ignored by everyone else.




          
Despite better judgment, Eiri found himself at the spot the girl had been moments before, staring down at the point he knew she’d have to land. No body, no blood. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned and started for the ticket booth, telling himself that he wasn’t going crazy. It had almost worked. Then Kitazawa opened his mouth again.




          
“Tragic, isn’t it? Killing yourself over some guy…” Kitazawa murmured, glancing sidelong at Eiri. He knew the barb would hit home.
The novelist narrowed his eyes, turning away from the scene, his voice pitched in a low growl, “Yeah. Tragic. If that’s why she killed herself, she was too moronic to stay in the gene pool anyway.”




          
“Oh, I don’t know.” Kitazawa drawled, his quiet smile back in place. “Seems to me like she has a few traits in common with someone familiar, wouldn’t you say?”




          
Eiri was getting meaner by the moment, wanting to punch someone, something. Anything. “No. I’d say, ‘Fuck off, get an afterlife.’ actually.”




          
Laughing without taking real offense, Kitazawa followed Eiri to the booth, where the young man bought a round trip ticket to Kyoto. He was well aware that Eiri hoped this fucking nightmare would be over soon. “You know, sulking never was becoming on you.” he murmured, ‘standing’ beside Eiri as the novelist stoically ignored him, waiting for the train. “Honestly, I think I preferred you cursing at me.”




          
“I already told you to ‘fuck off’,” Eiri bit out, his voice pitched as low as it could go.




          
Another quiet smile in place, the ghost leaned closer, cocking his head towards the blond. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”




          
“Get some ears, it might help.” Eiri mumbled again.




          
“Didn’t we review this in Diction? I believe we did. Never mumble, always articulate!” Kitazawa chided wagging his finger at him. Refusing to be baited into shouting in public, Eiri focused upon one spot on the wall, staring at it blankly. That didn’t stop his ex-mentor though. “Anger management, too. That might help this horrible habit you’ve picked up since you killed me.”




          
Placing the heel of his hand against the bridge of his nose, Eiri counted to ten. Then he counted to twenty.





•





          
He’d reached four hundred and sixty-seven by the time the next train had arrived. Stepping onto it quickly, Eiri found himself a seat that sported a double bench. Though he’d never liked feeling crowded, he hoped others would fill it up so that the ghost wouldn’t have any place to sit. Knowing Kitazawa though, the damned man would just sit on someone’s lap to stay nearby.




          
To add to his string of bad luck, nobody sat near him, and so, he was stuck ignoring Kitazawa as the ghost sat next to him. A moment later he muttered, “Why do you have to sit next to me, though!? Can’t you sit on the bench at least!?”




          
With a thoroughly amused expression, Kitazawa replied, “I could. In fact, that’s a good idea. Then I’d be able to gaze at you for the entire trip without having to strain my neck.”




          
“You don’t have a neck!” Eiri visibly twitched, then crossed his arms. “Never mind. Don’t move!”
A quiet chuckle answered him. “As you wish, Eiri.” Goading this new Eiri, now that the younger man could see and hear him, was quickly becoming a favored pastime.




          
Closing his eyes for a moment, Eiri opened them again, only to wish he hadn’t. Sitting across from him sat a woman he swore would fit right at home in the Museum of Natural History. In the display case. She was a wizened, ancient crone, who was practically beaming at him, and embroidering something he couldn’t make out.




          
What…. The…. FUCK?!




          
Taking note of his expression and, mistaking it for interest, or at least ignoring the horrified terror, she began chattering at him. “I’ll tell you, this is the best train they’d built. It’s so nice and cozy…”




          
Eiri must have blinked. He didn’t remember blinking, but he must’ve, because she kept talking. “I was riding it and fell asleep. When I woke up, they’d already declared me dead of a heart attack.” She paused again to lean closer, peering at Eiri, who’s eye began to twitch once more. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good.”




          
The young novelist absolutely refused to answer. If he gave these things an inch, they’d plague him for eternity. Kitazawa still sitting next to him was proof. He’d talked to HIM and where’d it get him? A permanent tagalong. Since Eiri was being rude and obnoxious, Kitazawa smiled warmly to the woman as he placed his hand on the upper part of Eiri’s thigh, patting it gently. “He’s a bit motion sick. Trains always do this to him, you see.”




          
“Ooh. See, that’s why you always carry some mint with you. It helps with the upset stomach.” The crone glanced down at Kitazawa’s hand. “Are you two….”




          
Kitazawa nodded immediately, answering quite seriously, “Lovers. We also had a… long night. He… gets a little testy.” He flinched as he felt the aura radiating from Eiri. He knew he’d get it for that one, but he just hadn’t been able to help himself.




          
Eiri stared at a spot on the ceiling on the train car, desperately trying to remember the Chant for Exorcism. Please, please. Whatever I did to piss you off, I’ll cha—ok who am I kidding? But I’m sorry. JUST TURN IT OFF!!!




          
He couldn’t even ask for someone to kill him. Then he would be stuck with these guys forever! It was going to be a long train ride. To distract himself, he began to imagine all of the things he would do to ..er… with… Shuichi when he got home. In bed. In the shower. Back to bed. Maybe the couch. Absolutely not the kitchen counter, they’d already learned their lesson with that one…




          
Fuck, birthdays SUCKED!




TBC