|Author's Note| This story is somehow connected to Speeding Past the Seaside, but you can read this even if you haven't gone through the story mentioned. Well, you'll see why the two fics intersect at some point.
Dedicated to Autumn Win-dow and Annabelle Rae for introducing this wonderful ship named KanaBara. Yes. You can't imagine how enormous my feels are.
His New Neighbor
buttercupbella
Nobara had been wide awake when she moved to the quiet, sleepy village.
Instead of carrying the huge boxes which housed her family's belongings, the turquoise-eyed girl jumped out of the car and scrutinized the building that was her new home. It was a Victorian "gingerbread house" with a spacious lawn. Its beige exteriors were highlighted by the sunlight peeping from the east, and Nobara was already fascinated by how well-preserved the abode had been, even if it had been deserted for quite a long time.
"Nobara! Come help your mother, will you?"
While cupping her hands and bellowing "Okay", Nobara took a peek at the wonderful flowerbed comprised of roses. They looked like they had been secretly tended by some sort of caretaker. She silently grumbled as the process of lifting a cardboard box for porcelain and breakables made her lose her balance.
The beautiful house wasn't what struck Nobara the most, though. Whereas her family's newly purchased dwelling was bursting with life, an adjacent building stood without any trace of its residents. There was nothing but a constant white hue, and there was a vehicle, similar to the car of Nobara's dad, parked in front of the home.
Nobara wondered why the other house mirrored their own, in infinite ways.
After all of her things were placed in the furnished bedroom, Nobara collapsed on the bed and strung the sheets above her. Her curled hair spread like a blue halo mounted on her pillow, and her eyes rested on the ceiling for two minutes before she caught a glimpse of a red cup hanging by the window.
The house was new and no one had consumed any food or beverage yet, so why was there a cup staring right at Nobara's face?
She gently kicked her blankets off and mused over the red object. It was floating with the aid of a fishing line that was, undeniably, recently put beside the window frame. Nobara's gaze trailed towards the path of the fishing line, which extended to the abutting window of the other house. The window was wide open, but the room facing Nobara's was devoid of any people. A red cup also hung there, swaying with the blue curtains and the cool breeze.
A string telephone.
Nobara wrapped her slender fingers around the red cup and held it close to her lips.
"Hello?"
What ensued was a dead silence which was occasionally interrupted by whispers of the wind. Although situations like this normally scared people who believed in ghosts, ghouls, or poltergeists, Nobara merely cradled the red cup - and somehow, just somehow, she was disappointed that no one had replied.
Someone was in the room opposite to hers, that she knew.
Nobara continued to fix her eyes on the wide area behind the curtains. In contrast to the other house's exteriors, the room was painted blue. There were glow-in-the-dark figures suspended from the ceiling with yarn. A bookshelf with thick paperbacks was positioned near the door. If her vision remained to be 20-20, Nobara was sure that the books focused on the study of Medicine.
Perhaps Nobara's neighbor was a budding doctor. Or a genius beyond his or her years. Or simply a person who lacked the resources to have fun, thus being reduced to reading five-inch thick textbooks about the human anatomy.
Uncertainties didn't, in any way, amuse the blue-haired girl, so she went back and slumped on her bed. It was already six thirty seven in the morning, and the excitement of moving in drained all the drowsiness from Nobara's head. She yawned several times and buried her head in her pillow, but she couldn't find the will to sleep. Not now, and not later.
Nobara lay on her bed for hours, turning and tossing every now and then. The neighbor intrigued her to no end, and it was taking every ounce of her tolerance to resist the urge of peeking through her blinds and at the other room. Nobara wasn't a curious girl, but once she realized that something was shrouded with mystery, her senses were definitely alert.
3:30 pm. Nobara was becoming annoyed. She had opened all of her scrapbooks, one of which was created by her friends from the previous neighborhood. Nostalgic sighs filled Nobara's room with invisible snippets of memory lanes as the girl ran her hand through the pictures of a happy past. Nobara was immersed in backtracking, that was true, but she was disturbed by the sound of the red cup rustling.
Rather, making vibrating noises.
In a hurry to hear the voice on the other end, Nobara stumbled out of her bed and accidentally dragged the things on her bed to the floor. She hoisted herself up and cleared her face of any stray curls.
She could feel her heart destroying her ribs with its incessant beating.
Nobara hid behind the blinds and neared the cup to the side of her head, hearing more of the thumps in her chest.
"Is anyone there?"
God, the voice was beautiful.
The person who was in the opposite room was waiting patiently for a response, and Nobara cleared her throat of any sign of nervousness. It was a boy's voice that had just reverberated in her ears - it felt like a melody that had been too familiar yet too foreign.
Hands trembling, Nobara said, "I - uh, hey...there?"
Nobara bit on her tongue and tasted blood, wincing at the stupidity of her opening remarks. The boy on the other side probably thought of her as a freak now. He couldn't see her through those blinds, but she knew that he could catch her meekness, or just downright idiocy, emanating from her covered window.
"Oh, hello," the boy replied with the same handsome tone that he used earlier. The fishing line moved a bit, and a gasp escaped the boy's lips and traveled through the line. "You must be our new neighbor."
"Yeah." Ignoring the tiny screams in the back of her mind, Nobara caught her rounded nails between her teeth. She had overcome the habit of nail-biting long ago, but it decided to make a comeback at the worst time possible. "I'm sorry if I bothered you."
The boy laughed mirthfully, saying, "No, it's okay. For starters, I'm Kaname, and I've been here for quite a long time now - in fact, I don't remember how long I've been here."
"I'm Nobara," the blue-haired girl said. She looked up at the blinds and decided to push them to the side to fully reveal her form.
To her surprise, 'Kaname' was waving at her with an impish grin. His charming voice corresponded with his shaggy blond hair that was sticking out in weird angles, his brown eyes full of questions, and his lips curving at the ends. The boy seated in front of the other window raised his red cup. "Nice to meet you, Nobara!"
Nobara didn't deny the fact that she felt shivers - of elation or astonishment, she didn't know - run through her spine when he called her name. Though Kaname's face captivated Nobara at first sight, she couldn't withstand noticing that he was primly sitting on a wheelchair with a wool blanket on his legs. The girl waved her hand in turn and spoke. "Nice to meet you, too! I'm glad we became neighbors!"
"Me too! How are you going to spend your summer, by the way?"
"Probably walk by the seaside," Nobara said. She twirled the ends of her hair. "I've heard that the beach here is amazing. Do you, by any chance, want to accompany me?"
Kaname stared warily at his immobile legs. "Ah, well, I can't go out. Not like this."
"I can always help you, you know."
The blond boy only grinned. "I wouldn't want to trouble you –" His sentence was cut off when he put his red cup down on his lap and began coughing like he was in some kind of fit. Like he had a chronic respiratory disease. Kaname's eyes crinkled and his shoulders kept rising and drooping whenever he wheezed, soliciting a worried expression from Nobara.
Lifting his hand, Kaname whispered into the cup. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just having an allergy. Anyway, my parents have forbidden me to wander in the village. It's too risky." He tore his brown eyes away from the neighboring window for a moment, as if contemplating what to say next. Finally, he tugged on his curtains and sighed. "Let's call it a day. Glad to have met you, Nobara."
"Will you come with me to the beach tomorrow, then?" Nobara asked, barely hearing her voice in the cup.
She placed her hands behind her back and discreetly crossed her fingers. Kaname's eyes crinkled, and his dimples pierced through his pale cheeks.
"How could I refuse?"
-x-
The seaside was just as beautiful as Nobara had imagined. Although it was littered with tourists who came from god-knows-where, the fine, white sand urged Nobara to kick her flip-flops off and let her feet slap against the smooth grains. There were a few stalls that sold barbecues and burgers, and one vendor was kind enough to provide discounted meals every Saturday.
Sunset was the most ideal time to visit the beach, Nobara thought. She could see the orange ball of hot gas descending into the vast, endless ocean, and it would be gone until it slowly crawled up the sky again in the next day. The empyrean region would be lit with purple, blue, and pink tinges of sunlight broken into pieces. Seagulls would cry as they set on their unbounded journey. Streams of air would flow through Nobara's silky locks, and she would always spot two teenagers, one raven-haired and the other with light brown mane, riding bicycles along the shoreline and seeming like they were in love with each other.
Nobara could only wish for that - she was stuck with pushing Kaname's wheelchair across the beach using enervated limbs. She sighed at the allure of the quaint village exemplified in its spectacular sunset.
"A lot of people come here, huh?"
Kaname smiled while taking the scenery in. "Of course. Nobody would want to miss out on this...this perfection."
Once Kaname ordered her (in a way that his tone remained to be gentle) to stop pushing his wheelchair, Nobara nodded and faced the blond boy.
She knelt in front of him and directly stared at his brown irises which shone due to the sunlight. "I'm happy that you got to be with me. This village really has the essence that makes you want to stay here forever."
That essence is you, Kaname.
Kaname put his hand on Nobara's shoulder. It was as ghastly as the rest of his skin, and it was obvious that he was trying to veil his visible tremor. "Thank my parents - they're the ones who agreed to me being out of the house for the first time in years. If I haven't told you this yet, welcome to the village and I hope you enjoy your stay!"
Nobara laughed. "You sounded like a flight steward right then. Or maybe a tour guide."
"I'm just that charismatic, I guess," Kaname shrugged, earning a playful shove from his companion. They bickered, in their own silent way, while treading the path towards their adjacent homes. It wasn't that dark by the time they reached their destination, but the moon was already apparent in the horizon.
The both of them knocked on the door of Kaname's house. It still intrigued Nobara to find that the door was exactly the same as the door of her own house. However, she neglected the mysterious coincidence and went to greet Kaname's parents.
Two people stood in the doorway. The woman was wearing a striped apron, and the man was holding the day's newspaper. Their silhouettes showed that the mother was quite slim. It wasn't that dim in the porch, so why couldn't Nobara see their faces? She rubbed her eyes and heard Kaname speak. "Nobara, here are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is my friend and our new neighbor Nobara."
Kaname's mother muttered, "Oh!" before placing her freezing hand on Nobara's own.
Weird. It's in the middle of summer right now, isn't it?
Nobara had just arrived in this laid-back village yesterday, but why did it seem like something was wrong? No, not something - everything was wrong. Did Kaname place the red cup in Nobara's room on purpose? Why were there innumerable similarities between his and her home? Why did Kaname's family appear to be...dead?
Most importantly, why was Nobara beginning to fall in love with a boy she barely knew?
The blue-haired girl shook the thought off her disoriented head and greeted Kaname's parents with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir and Ma'am."
"She called me Mom!" Kaname's mother shrilly remarked, giggling at her incomprehension. She tucked her hair into a messy bun and gripped her striped apron until her knuckles turned white. The father only bent his head forward in acknowledgement and returned to his velvet sofa by the nightstand, contentedly plopping down with his newspaper. The son placed his hands on both wheels of his mobility aid and smiled apologetically at Nobara.
"I guess I should go home," Nobara said. She was confused - or maybe scared - and she needed a reason to get back to the safety and comfort of her own room, where her blankets made it impossible for her to see the house beside hers and hear the voices coming from the red cup. Without waiting for Kaname's 'good night', she ran, with her trembling legs, back to her own home.
She didn't have to knock - Nobara barged in and shut the door as fast as she could without making a terrible, ear-splitting noise. Her mother must have heard her panicked breaths, because she came out of their family's small kitchen while holding a plate of burned apple pie -
- And wearing a soiled apron patterned with blue stripes. Blue stripes, as blue as the thick lines that adorned the apron of Kaname's mother.
"Honey, what's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
Nobara's father emerged from the kitchen as well. He adjusted the glasses perched on his nose and folded the newspaper that he was poring over a few moments ago. "Nobara, what happened?"
I don't know, either.
Dysfunctional arms hung from either side of Nobara. She tried to produce a coherent statement but her own larynx refused to do so - she could only stare at anything that didn't hold some sort of mystery: the ceramic vase, the polished staircase, the illuminated chandelier, and the pictures lining the walls of their sala.
Pictures. The first photographs on the left had four people in it, with an odd man out that was a little boy with pale, chapped lips and blond hair. The succeeding images only had three subjects as the members of a family, and the conclusion was crystal clear as her memories, the ones which didn't seem to exist yet were hidden in a treasure chest - if one could consider those memories as treasures - that had long been forgotten.
Hey, sis, can you hear me? I don't know if this string telephone works - the internet said it does.
This was far worse than falling in love with a dead boy -
She was in love with her own brother.
Nobara dropped to the floor and cradled her head, oblivious of her surroundings which she didn't know of anymore. Everything else didn't seem to matter, because there was only one voice drilling through her head - he'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'sdead - and she couldn't scream. Not when no one could hear her.
A grown man witnesses it all. He furiously scribbles on his pad of paper like a madman, constantly looking up at the glass and looking down on his unintelligible writing. His eyebrows are scrunched together because the ambiance that engulfs him is just a faultless blur of pure white, and he seems to be blinded by it. His coat, his gloves, the whole building - they are all painted with the same white hue.
He sees Nobara clutch her knees and stare idly at the thick walls. She can't speak, that he knows. But her eyes, her lovely turquoise eyes, tell her story better than her mother and father could ever do. She glances at the glass separating her from the real world, and for a moment the man in the white coat thinks that she would crawl and beg for her sanity.
The doctor knows that she wouldn't do that, though.
Nobara is too busy holding the crushed red cup to her ear and mouthing - not speaking, just mouthing - words to the lifeless container. Every day, she has a routine - wake up and jump out of an imaginary car, curiously gaze at the corners of her white prison, lie on her back and pretend to leaf through scrapbooks, excitedly whisper to the red cup, demonstrate the usage of a wheelchair, knock on invisible doors, and run around the room, ending up just as broken as she was in the previous day.
Her mother cries as she lets her fingers touch the glass. "Please, doctor."
The woman hands the doctor a creased picture which depicts the happy moments of a family of four, and he gawks at his penmanship and the first sentences that appear in the corners of his eyes.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Patient diagnosed after the death of an immediate family member.
Instead of reassuring the mother with fake promises, the doctor smiles sadly and gives the picture back. He doesn't know the family, and he surely doesn't have the obligation to share his compassion with a handful of strangers, one of whom was dead and another one stuck in the confines of her own delusions. He does know one thing, though, and as he looks into the same turquoise eyes that closely resembles Nobara's, he says -
"I'm afraid she's a hopeless case, Ma'am."
But Nobara doesn't hear any of his words beyond the wall of glass, and her breathing hitches in a dreamy manner when a merely illusory voice makes its way to her ears - nonetheless, it is beautiful, as beautiful as the boy who once had it.
"Oh, hello. You must be our new neighbor."
This seems weird. Really weird. Anyway, constructive criticism is always welcome!