Invader Zim belongs to Jhonen Vasquez. Mushishi belongs to Yuki Urushibara. If you see any spelling/grammatical/story telling errors, please feel free to correct me.

Uneven Perspective

What will you do when it's impossible to see eye to eye? What lengths will you go to prove yourself?

My travels have taken me to the eastern coast where there is more evidence of the new century turns. 'Modern' is pushed, the clothes I wear are seen more often, foreign objects are shared and words exchanged. But it's the great lack of vivid green that reminded me why it had been so long since my last visit. Trees and other old growth had to be stripped away for houses and then stripped further for farming and safer roads. This causes some Mushi to act peculiar from their normal behavior. Sudden change of habitat and loss of familiar.

I was here to see a boy that this village has now labeled crazy. Doctors have claimed aside from his horrible eyesight he was physically healthy, but not mentally. Talking about life that came from the sky that was neither a bat, bird or insect. Whatever he saw, it was as green as the forest that used to live on the coast where he lived. In order for there to be any peace, I knew I would have to find the child and help him cope with his ability to see Mushi.

He didn't look that different from most preteen boys. Unruly black hair, dark eyes and the usual worn blue Jinbei. What made him easier to spot from the others was the black jacket and thick glasses that slipped occasionally from his nose due to weight. Actually, I lied. It wasn't any of that. I caught him sneaking into someone's window.

"Trouble?" I asked, thinking the boy had just locked himself out of his home. He gasped as he lost his grip on the windowsill and fell to the ground.

"I-it's, it's not what it looks like!" he turned to meet me while trying to regain his composer but only continued to blush with embarrassment.

"Relax," I waved it off, "I'm just looking for the boy that this village has called insa-"

"That would be me." he looked away, seeming to look more guilty at being identified than caught sneaking. "I guess you're here to see if you can find whatever is wrong with me. You can try, but I assure you- you'll end up leaving more confused than you came."

"I'm not a doctor," I corrected him as I walked over to his side, "I am a Mushishi."

"A... Mushishi?" he looked up at me, curiosity killing the guilt almost immediately.

"Mushi are a form of life, both plant and animal or neither depending on your take of it. I am a Mushishi. When people have problems with the Mushi, they come to people like me for help."

"What... what does that have to do with me?" he rose an eyebrow.

"Most people cannot see Mushi, and so are unaware of their existence and impact on their lives."

Ignorance is where all problems start, and it never ends.

I followed him to his quaint house which was built on a dirt hill that oversaw most of the town. Even the dark blue ocean itself could be viewed in safety. He lived with his little sister who kept her distance from me, and when we were in the same room together, she hid behind a book. We sat off from the porch and watched the sky grow steadily darker.

"Is it just the two of you?" I asked as I took a drag and blew the smoke at the first stars.

"Oh no, my dad is a traveling merchant. He comes home in winter and leaves in spring."

"What does he sell?"

"Mostly herbs..." he pushed his glasses back up, "Why can't most people see Mushi?" he added urgently.

"You might as well ask why some people like the flavor of seaweed while others don't." I gave a halfhearted shrug, "So, tell me, what does this Mushi of yours look like?" the boy shifted a bit from where he sat as he thought of the right words.

"He's human shaped, but he has only three fingers," he held up his right hand to me as he closed his pinky and ring finger into his palm, "like this." I nodded and he placed his hands in his lap again, "His skin is as green as fresh grass. The eyes are a blood red and he has no hair."

"That is a very strange Mushi." I felt myself smirk as I tried to imagine the critter, "I really would like to see this with my own eyes."

"He calls himself Zim, and he talks really weird." he scratched his head, "Um, Ginko-san?"

"Yes?"

"Is there a way to make people see Mushi?" I turned my head so my eye could meet with his pair. Those bark brown eyes filled with frustration and hurt, I've seen them before many times. Misunderstandings and loss, it never got any easier.

"No." His eyes broke away, "Even if there was a way, you should banish the thought." I tapped the ash off the porch. "It only brings torment."

"Then how do I prove to them that I'm not crazy?" he jumped to his feet, "What can I do to make them see they were wrong?"

"You don't." there was a thud as the boy sat down again, "You either must pretend that you do not see them, or deal with your peer's opinion. If there are any open minded ones, they'll come around."

"It's not just the kids," he tugged on his jacket, "...it's the adults too. People avoid my eye contact and trade very few words with me." a deep sigh escaped his lips as he held back the tears, "No one takes me seriously. I'm a laughing stock! I just wish, just wish someone else agreed with me!"

"What is your name?" I kept my voice calm and steady as I patted his shaking back.

"D-Dib..."

"Well Dib, here is one person who doesn't think your crazy." I gave a small smile, and was rewarded with a twitch of his own. "Listen, tomorrow you can show me this Mushi-"

"Zim." he bit his lower lip.

"You can introduce me to Zim," I corrected with a nod, "For now it's time to get some rest."

Even when people can see the same thing, they will not think the same way. A white bird can symbolize happiness, but can also symbolize death. The best you can hope for, is mutual respect.

A peaceful death.