Language, Blood/Gore (kinda, not too descriptive…), Character death (again, kinda… he’s already in the afterlife, okay?)
[A/N: I think I might have focused on Mayuzumi’s inner potty-mouthed, easily annoyed, rude af self, but oh well. Also, the rating is just because of the language, ‘kay?]
Word count: 591
Thud.
Chihiro Mayuzumi sighed as he opened the door to his apartment a little too forcefully, wondering just what had decided to magically fall out of place this time. Ever since moving in to the place, pretty much anything he took his eyes off of for more than two seconds would end up on the floor, possibly across the room. It couldn’t even be attributed to the fact that he still had some unopened boxes laying around because they were unopened.
Quite frankly, it was beyond annoying. Well, somewhat unsettling, but emphasis on annoying.
This time around, the fallen object was a Princess Tu- err, a Fist of the North Star manga.
Mayuzumi bent to pick it up, muttering a disgruntled, “It’s not like there’s a ghost or anything.”
However, fate, being so wonderfully kind and adherent to the gray-haired young man’s wishes, decided otherwise. Yep, you guessed it, folks. When Mayuzumi stood back up, there, standing right in front of him was a short, slightly transparent, and deathly pale teenage boy.
“Hello.” Said boy deadpanned.
Well, shit.
Unable to believe what he was seeing, the only living being in the room weakly flapped his hand at the apparition.
“I just said you didn’t exist. Get outta here, you’re about to piss me off.” he said.
“I’ve been here the whole time. Maybe you should leave, Mayuzumi-kun.” the teen somehow sassed without sounding sassy.
Mayuzumi tossed the manga into some obscure corner and rubbed one of his temples because, damn, he was already getting a headache just from looking at the ghost before him. The adorable, tiny, blank blue-eyed, with seriously soft-looking blue hair- wait, let’s stop there.
“Aren’t ghosts supposed to be, I don’t know, scary? You know, with their cause of death made obvious, hurling pointy objects at people, and staring at you creepily all the time. Not puppy-like, unlike you.” he said, gesturing half-heartedly at the apparition.
“We can. Would you rather have me look like this?” said ghost replied.
One blink later, and the teen looked the same. Well, the same, except for the blood and wounds covering his face and body. Were those scissors sticking out of his eye? One could practically hear Akashi cackling if they listened close enough.
Insert internal manly shriek here.
“Nope, nope, nope, go back to normal, I don’t wanna see your brain.” came the gray-haired man’s disturbed reply.
Yet another blink later, and it was all blue skies and puppy eyes again.
“Better.” A pause. “…If you’ve been here the whole time, why haven’t I noticed you?”
“Actually, I have tried to get your attention several times now, but you never noticed me.” He replied, then added, “It seems like my lack of presence is only getting worse.”
“Huh.” came the simple response. There’s one thing they had in common.
This conversation was dragging on too long…
“Since we’re obviously stuck together, at least tell me your name.” Mayuzumi mumbled.
“My name is Testuya Kuroko. It’s nice to meet you.” The well-mannered bluenette said, while leaning into a bow.
After a moment of silence, the older (Well, physically. Who knew how long ago that puppy-boy died?) of the two glanced down the hall, longing for a shower. Deciding to end the conversation quickly, he looked to Kuroko in hopes of finding words to express how the wonders of hygiene were calling his name.
Naturally, the ghost wasn’t there any longer.
Taking advantage of this, Mayuzumi shuffled towards the bathroom. Honestly, who’d have thought that ghosts could make for pleasant conversation?