Gossamer
Summary: The haunted seat on Tokyo transit bus number 12 is finally empty…[implied NaruHina, SasuHina]
Naruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto
The dirty old broken down bus crawled down the streets of downtown Tokyo, occasionally stopping by the oddly bent metal signs. The passengers on the bus were of every class – high school girls, slouched bums, classy white-collar working men – they all shuffled onto the bus and grasped the beaten metal poles running down the center as the bus lurched through the busy streets.
Girls with bleached hair and short skirts stuffed tiny earbuds into their ears, texted friends with their glossy phones and gossiped in high pitch voices about the current object of their affections. The rugged, potbellied bums held a worn cigarette between their fingers, wishing for a nice cup of coffee down at the corner shop. The occasional high-class business men talked into their cells without moving their mouths, their fingers never hesitating as it ran own the plastic keyboard of their laptops.
The bus driver had a worn blue cap pulled down over the front of his face, dry blond hair sticking out underneath and a resigned look as the bus dragged itself forward, ignorant of any curses he spat out or any amount of pressure he put on the gas.
Soon, the girls would get off and go to their individual warm, well-lit homes, just in time for dinner. The bums would get off; shivering in the cold North wind and wonder where else they could go. The business men, a Bluetooth glued to their ear and a Palm Pilot stuck in their hands, would walk briskly to their cold homes and secretly work overtime until three in the morning.
Finally, the bus driver, completing his rounds for the day, would drive the bus back to the station and hand off the keys to the other shift. He would take out a cigarette, light it and take a long puff. Then he would hurry home in his second-hand Toyota Camera and return to the small flat belonging to him since childhood.
He would never notice the tiny girl sitting in the back of the bus. And he wouldn't see her the next day, when he pulled on a thick sweater and began his rounds two minutes after five. He wouldn't see her that night either, when he pulled the keys out of the ignition and walked away, whistling to keep his fears away. When she wasn't there the next day, he didn't even notice.
Every day he would pass an old oak tree, riddled with gum, filth and carved names. Once, the tree had belonged to a park, before Tokyo started to expand uncontrollably and all the parks disappeared. His clear blue eyes would inadvertently stray to the tiny space at the top-left of the tree trunk, almost completely covered with missing person signs and other, more recent carvings. There, in a crooked heart, were the letters 'N + H'. Then the bus driver would pull down his worn cap with his rough fingers and sigh as he closed the bus doors, wondering whatever had happened to that poor girl H.
It was on this bus that the runaway heir of the Uchiha corporation sat. With his spiky black hair, shabby name-brand clothing and dog-eared novel by his side, he did not fit with the groups of chattering high school students standing in the aisle, the groaning bums spread out on the seats or the silent business men sitting with perfect posture. He made his way to the back of the bus, ignoring the sudden hush that fell on the people he passed. Eyes stared at him as he sat nonchalantly onto the hard plastic seat that was a bit newer than the other seats. When he flipped open his paperback and resumed reading the much-loved pages, the prattle resumed, but with a more reserved air. It was well known among the daily passengers of the bus the curse laid upon the back seat. Years ago, when the bus had not been as old, blood had been spilled on the seat, though it had since been replaced. No one knew the exact details, but the fear of a haunting was enough to keep people at bay.
His eyes never left the thin pages of the book in his lap. He licked his lips after a while, wincing when it left a trail of blood along the chapped skin. He wiped it away with his hand and placed said hand on the plastic seat. So absorbed was he in reading, he never noticed the sudden appearance of the tiny girl sitting next to him.
Who are you? She stared at him, her lips unmoving and cold. He recoiled, the words echoed through his mind. She frowned and the words repeated them in his head; Who are you?
"I'm Uch –," he began and then cut off suddenly, seeming to think it over before saying again, "I'm Sasuke." The two people in front of him turned back, staring the person who was talking to himself. There was something queer about this kid, this unusual kid who did not seem to fit into any category. After a few moments of silence, they turned around, intent on getting off at the next stop.
Sasuke? Sasuke? His name rang clearly in his head, she smiled, her lips still closed. My name is Hinata. I'm a ghost.
"Why?"
I died. In this seat.
"I can't help you." With half a mind to switch to another seat, he returned to his book.
But you can see me! She protested in a high voice. You're the first person that could.
"I still can't help you," he whispered under his breath, "Go haunt someone else."
Why aren't you afraid? Her faint purple hair fell over her bare shoulder and onto her summer dress, Aren't you afraid?
"You don't look like you can hurt anybody." He replied simply, now ignoring the curious looks his one-sided conversation was drawing.
I am a ghost. Most people would run away.
"I've seen worse."
I died in this seat. Aren't you afraid that you'll die too? She tapped the slight stain in the metal wall of the bus. That's my blood.
"I've seen worse."
Not many people can say that. She stared at him again, as if expecting something. When no reply came, she placed her translucent hands on his book, blurring the pages. Aren't you going to as me how you can get rid of me? Aren't you going to exorcize me? Send me away?
"Is that what you want?" He snapped the book closed, disappointed when it passed right through her hands. She thought for a moment, considering the thought.
Yes. Can you help me?
"No."
Why?
"This doesn't concern me."
It will. I'll be here forever.
"Just move on or whatever."
I want to. But I can't. Will you help me?
"No."
Please? This might be my only chance. I just wanted to say good-bye.
"To your family?" He guessed, disinterested.
To him. She flushed as she ducked her head lower. My friend.
"Your boyfriend?" He drawled, wondering what sort of coffee to get at the next stop.
My friend. She insisted.
"Look, I just got here. I don't know where your 'friend' is."
He's right here. He's the bus driver.
"Him? Then why don't you go say 'bye' by yourself?"
I can't leave this seat. She pointed to the chain on her ankle. It's where I died.
"What do you want me to say?"
That I loved him.
"No way. There is no way I'm saying that to another guy. They'll think I'm nuts!"
Do you really care what other people think?
"No. But –," he stopped when he saw the agony on her face.
I thought you were different. I thought that I could finally leave. She curled up on the seat. I've been here for thirty years. Not once has anyone helped me.
"I can't do it," he stated flatly. "Ghosts have to get rid of themselves. If I just help you, it's not going to work."
But I can't leave this seat.
"Then I'll get him to come over."
He won't be able to see me.
"So how come I can?"
I don't know. She thought pensively for a bit. Maybe…maybe it was the blood. You had blood on your finger when you touched this seat.
"That's sick," he remarked, and then continued, "I can do that."
You can? Her eyes shined. You can?
"Just hope that he doesn't put up much of a fight."
Thank you…Sasuke She sat down next to him and smiled brightly. Thank you.
"No problem," he grunted, wondering why he suddenly felt very very warm. And so, the two of them sat quietly in the back of the old fuming bus until the stars came out. At the last stop, the bus driver looked up in his rearview mirror and saw the black-haired kid in the back seat.
"Last stop kid, get out." He grunted. The boy grinned and beckoned him over. The bus driver sighed and got up, hobbling a bit on his bad leg, which had gotten injured in an accident long ago. "Ye have to get out. Ye can't sleep on the bus."
The boy gestured to the seat next to him, "There's a person you'll want to meet first though…
The next morning, at a bus stop, the aged Tokyo transit bus 12 reeled to a stop. Yawning and sucking on coffee milk, the high-school girls shuffled toward the door, hesitating when they looked up. There was something different about the bus driver. His blond hair was still sticking out at odd angles. His hat was jammed over his head and his hands were still grubby. But on his face, they could see a faint whisper of a smile.
After a second, their mind wandered onto other things and they got onto the bus, just like everyday. But as the people increased and the bus entered the business district of Tokyo, they all noticed something peculiar. A soft warm breeze blew through the bus, though no windows were open. The bus seemed to be filled with sunlight, though the skies outside was cloudy.
And the old bus driver, under the racket of the noisy streets and honking vehicles, was humming a little tune under that mysterious smile.
Author's Notes: Wasn't too sure were I was going with this, but I think it turned out nice. I thought of it while riding the school bus. I've always wanted to write a story with a ghost in it. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Please read & review!
moonhaku