I can't believe I actually wrote this :O I was inspired by a ghost story I read from one of the books I read, waiting for my sister and mom to finish shopping.
Warning. This is a slash. Wing/Otto. Don't ask why, this idea just haunted me for most of the day, so I decided to type it. It only took me an hour and a half :D
Oh, and note this: It may get confusing. So here's a guide
"obituary"
"normal time"
'thoughts in the obituary'
"You'll find out"
WARNING: I OWN NOTHING.
It begins with a cloudy day.
I had met the one three months ago. No, not the mushy, 'my one true soul mate' crap that some people spout. The one was my—dare I say it—bestest friend ever.
He was a new student from Japan, born Chinese. His name was Wing Fanchu. He had lightly tanned skin, a well-toned body (for a sixteen year old anyway), and long black hair tied into a ponytail. I didn't know whether that was regulation or not, but he got away with it, either way.
He was polite. That was my first impression of him. He bowed low when he was introduced to the class, as I was sure that was what most Japanese did to be polite. Some guys sniggered, but the girls were just agape. Suckers.
The teacher made him sit beside me. At that point, everyone glared. No, not because they were jealous. Because they hated me.
I was different. I had white hair, bright blue eyes, and ghostly white skin. Unlike everyone else, who had normal tanned skin, normal brown eyes and normal brunette of blonde hair.
I hated him back then.
He was different. Why didn't they hate him?
Probably because he was known to be rich.
His father, from what the rumors said, was a great CEO of a video games company. He even took part of designing the games when he wanted to. Being a nice person, he'd donated things to people. Not that I had cared back then.
His mother owned a large string of beauty parlors, the ones that all the rich people went to for the popularity instead of the practicality. I wanted to scoff at that.
I had to admit I was surprised at how nice he was. Usually the people who were liked by the general crowd of the school were haughty, annoying, and all-over bitchy.
He was nice. To me.
"Hello." He said quietly. "What's your name?" he asked.
Strange. He talked to me. He didn't even mention my hair. His eyes didn't flick upwards to it.
"I'm Otto Malpense." I said quietly, like him. He smiled softly, and said, "It's nice to meet you Otto. I'm Wing. But I guess you know that, sorry." He laughed a little, and I found myself smiling as well. Strange. I didn't do that much.
The first part of the day flew by quickly. Too soon, it was lunch. I sighed explosively, as I grabbed my bag-lunch from my duffel bag. I left as fast as I could, escaping the glares and punches from the other students. I ran all the way to the roof, and sighed again.
Good. It was empty.
I sat down beside the door to the stairs. I opened my bag, sniffed the food, and threw it away with dislike. It was the sludge that my father had made the day before. It really was sludge. It was brown and green in places, and it was all slimy. He didn't bother to put it in a topper ware. He was probably too smashed to even know what he was doing.
I drew out a cig from my pocket, and lit it with the lighter from the other pocket. I sucked a drag of it, and blew it out heavily.
It sucked to be a smoker, to have a smashed father, a non-existent mother, and albinism. It really sucked.
"I doubt smoking is allowed, Otto."
I looked to the looming figure above me. It was just Wing.
"So?" I asked, sucking up another drag. He sat down beside me.
"I do not see why you are discriminated in our classroom." He said. Quite straightforward. "So you noticed." I said; it was not a question.
"Why?" he asked innocently.
I laughed. Long, and harsh.
"Look at me. Look at me. This body is worth discriminating." I said cruelly. Though I knew I was being cruel only to myself. "I have white hair for god's sake, and pale skin. I have blue eyes, instead of the normal eyes. I'm suffering albinism."
"And I'm Asian." Wing said. I looked at him, confused.
"But you're loved here." I muttered bitterly. "Only for my money." He retorted, almost as harshly as I had been before. "Some people in the cafeteria tried to get my money by seducing me. It is immoral. I do not wish o take part of what they do."
"So stay on the sidelines." I mumbled. He stared.
He laughed.
"I suppose I never thought of it that way." He said. I looked at him once again. "Oh, so you did not…"
"Didn't what?" I asked.
"I thought you were meaning something." He answered. "I did." I replied. "Stay on the sidelines, and you won't be in the line of attack."
"I was thinking… something different." He said. "I was thinking, that if you stay on the sidelines, the more free you can be."
"Wha—?" I was confused. He explained.
"Imagine the population here as a giant bubble. If you're in the middle, you're crowded with all the other fakers, players, and bastards." He said. I raised an eyebrow. He actually called the people here bastards. I was interested.
"The people who try to be like everyone else, the ones who do not want to be hurt by being different, are stuck in the middle, unable to free themselves. However, the ones who are different, who are unique, are imaginative, are on the sidelines, trying to free themselves from the bubble. To be out of the box—er, bubble."
I grinned. The first time in five years.
"I like your style Fanchu." I said.
"And I dislike the remains of your lunch." He replied, pointing to the sludge nearby. He held out a turkey sandwich.
"Would you like some? My mother keeps on packing too much food." He said, sounding embarrassed. I got the food, thanked him, and bit it. It was amazing. Wing smiled at me, and began eating as well.
We ate in silence.
I had realized then, that I had gotten my first friend.
To make this story easier to understand, we skip to two months ago, to the day he ruined my entire life.
The teenage boy paused. He was crying. He wiped the tears away from his face, and continued typing. He had to. For Miss Xiu Mei Zhang. For Wu Zhang. For Wing.
We were just walking down the street, heading to school. The final day of school, at least. We were both laughing at a forgotten joke. But Wing started to cough again.
"Are you okay?" I asked, quickly getting his inhaler from my bag. After acquainting myself with Wing's parents, they apparently found me kind and charming. I almost laughed back then. They told me to take care of Wing. They hadn't told him this, but they entrusted his happiness with me. I was his only true friend.
"I'm fine." He said. I was not convinced. He was still wheezing slightly from the asthma attack he had the week before.
I'll skip again.
The young boy was crying, harder than ever before. He had to calm down for five minutes before he could type again.
I heard a scream from the ground floor of the school. I rushed down right away.
'Please let Wing be okay.' I thought. I had left him there quickly to fetch our bags, after school had finished. I jumped off the last few steps, and skidded into the hall.
I stopped.
Wing was being aided by two of the school nurses. Asthma attack, I heard them say. Severe, I heard them say.
I ran to him, handing the two women his inhaler. They said it wouldn't work now. The coughing was too hard.
An ambulance quickly arrived. I tried to climb on, but the stupid policy of 'relatives only' was still being followed, even in Wing's horrible condition. So I called his parents right away. I was already on my bike back then, racing to the hospital.
I saw his parents in the hospital. They were rushing to Wing's room. The asthma was getting worse, I heard them say.
The next thing I heard them say made me freeze.
For some reason, not even the parents were allowed in the room at the moment. There was too much commotion. We still snuck in though. Miss Xiu Mei Zhang grabbed her son's hand, almost crying. Wu Zhang held his wife's shoulder, looking grim. I was on the sidelines, staring at the electrocar-thingy beside Wing's bed. His heartbeat was weak, I felt as if I was getting weaker.
It became a straight line.
The next thing I heard them say was, "It was too late. We're very sorry."
I froze, and felt myself get woozy. I barely saw Wing's mother breaking down, and his father letting streams of tears down his cheeks.
I was in my own world. Crying.
I strangely felt warm. I cleared my head, and saw Miss Xiu Mei Zhang hugging me, telling me it was okay.
Why weren't they hugging Wing? To tell him that he wouldn't die?
Then I realized that he was dead.
The young boy continued to type, though he was still crying. Only his fingers were moving now. His mind was somewhere else.
A month later, I still hadn't gotten over his death. But everything moved on. I was taken out of my father's custody, and as I had no other living relatives, I was adopted by Miss Xiu Mei Zhang and Mister Wu Zhang.
Even today, I still remember—
The young boy stopped. That was enough for today. The obituary was due next week anyway.
He leaned on the wall of his room. He sighed. His eyes still stung, and there will still tear streaks down his cheeks.
Suddenly, the room dimmed. He saw the faintest of figures in his room. maybe it was his foster mother, telling him that dinner was ready.
But no. It was too white.
He realized that it was him. Wing. His late friend floated to his resting body, and spoke Japanese. The young boy understood it though. He'd learned.
"Utsukushii." Said the spirit. Said Wing. "Anata wa utsukushii desu."
The spirit kissed the young boy. Full on the lips. It felt like an eternity for the boy. It was only a few fleeting seconds, before the spirit disappeared.
The young boy slid down the wall of his room.
He thought he was beautiful.
He didn't like him as a friend.
Wing loved him.
And the young boy realized that Wing was beautiful. And that he loved him.
I thought it was rather sweet :)
Read and Review please!