Unexpected second chance
Summary: Despite wishing to turn over a new leaf in College, Jinta cannot abandon his memories of Meiko. Unable to cope, her phantom re-appears. Could this give Jinta the closure he needs to finally heal and move on? Regardless, as Meiko soon discovers, the best of intentions can do the most damage to a lonely soul.
Pairing: Jinta x Meiko
Warning: angst
Having recently moved in to his new College dorm, Jinta was still struggling to get used to his new room. For the third time that night, he jarred his hip on the corner of his desk and cursed. His body was still programmed to navigate his bedroom back at home.
Living in a brand new city, and barely nineteen years old, Jinta felt out of place. It was safe to say that he knew nobody here, and while family was merely a phone call away, the distance hurt more than he had imagined. It was now impossible to wander downstairs and help himself to a midnight snack, or to lounge around with the TV on in the early hours of the morning if insomnia hit him like it used to.
Jinta had been thrust in to this new world completely blind. With only his course in agriculture and civil engineering as any sort of direction, he feared that if he didn't find some kind of meaning soon, he would fall on his face before the year was up - literally and metaphorically.
It was close to midnight by the time he remembered to cook up some dinner. A steaming cup of instant noodles permeated his cramped room with the smell of chicken and vegetables. Tapping away at his laptop, Jinta waited for it to cool while opening up an email he had received from Anjou earlier that week.
According to the email, she had just transferred to a University about forty-five minutes away, and that was by train alone. Shoulders slumping as he read of how excited Anjou was, starting her life as an adult finally, Jinta slurped at his ramen in silence. Without much money to splurge on except his own earnings and some money his father would send him each month, Jinta had decided to keep things simple. All he really needed was the internet, a working phone and enough left over to make sure his fridge never ran out.
Out of nowhere, his phone rang and he dropped his hand as scalding noodles splattered on to his arm and tipped on to the floor.
"Christ!" He hissed, grabbing a paper towel to dab at his arm. The angry vibrations his phone was making on his desk reminded Jinta that he was yet to pick up and he worked faster. After clearing up the mess on the floor as quickly as he could, he went for the phone.
Swiping his thumb across the screen, he asked, "Who is it?"
Surprised, he heard his father's voice on the other end.
"So you are alive. I've been calling for hours you lazy arse of a son. There's been a terrible monsoon that's hit us. It's such a pain to get groceries now. But are you doing alright son? You'd better not be eating any of that processed crap. Do you have enough to keep you warm through the winter too?"
He smiled at his father's concerned tone and wished he could be there to jostle the old man out of the way and prepare a good dinner for them both to eat, just like old times. Even toss in a joke or two.
"We've got some thunderclouds overhead but so far everything is alright. I'm glad the electricity is still working for you, that's usually first to go. Have you been able to catch up with the Honma's at all recently?"
There was silence down the other side of the phone for a long time. As Jinta waited, his stomach began to clench and tense spasmodically. Not wanting to rush his father, he began to pace until he couldn't take it anymore. He ventured again, "Dad, what's the matter with the Honma's? Has anything happened?"
His father cleared his throat awkwardly on the other end of the line. The reception was beginning to crackle and hiss. The monsoon must be getting worse. Biting his lip, Jinta strained to hear his father's distorted words.
"It's Satoshi. I heard – Irene says he's not coping – could be a phase – Meiko was his only sibling-"
Jinta sucked on his teeth as a chunk of his father's words were cut off, "I didn't catch one part of that. Reception is bad. What's the matter with Satoshi?"
The call cleared up momentarily, which only served to make his father's words all the more crippling, "He's telling Irene that he can still see her. Meiko. He says she's still here with us."
As the words were spoken, Jinta's blood thickened in his veins and began to pound harder in his ears, dulling out his father's voice. Letting his back thump against the wall, he slid to the floor, his legs trembling with an indescribable feeling. He couldn't tell if it was disbelief, anxiety, fear or a mixture of everything.
His father seemed to sense the distress in his son and called out his name, but the line went dead before he could answer. The lights in the room flickered and a clap of thunder shook the window panes. Letting his phone clatter to the floor, Jinta curled in to a ball, bringing his knees up to his chest.
How long had it been since he had allowed himself to think of her? To imagine that silky hair and those gentle, soft blue eyes? When was the last time he had even remembered the way she spoke?
"M-Menma…" he croaked. His eyes were steadily growing heavy with the promise of hot, thick tears. No matter how long he let the matter lie, if Jinta dared think back to that time all those years ago, the pain lacerated his heart mercilessly. She had been crying that day, they all had been. Their final goodbyes had seemed to give everybody else the closure they needed, but time was still frozen for Jinta.
No matter what he had thought, or what kind of closure he had been granted, he had wallowed in the memory of Menma. Allowed her to flourish and blossom in his mind and heart until it strangled him. After all, they had spent so long together that summer, how could he move on so easily?
The loneliness ate at him, gnawing at his insides like an angry beast that had been crudely awoken from its slumber. So sure he had buried this agony deep inside long ago, the pain was unexpected, violent, cruel. He wasn't prepared for it and soon he was hyperventilating, memories flooding back to him. Passing gestures, whispered words, snapshot memories of a simpler time, a happier time. They hit him one after the other until he lost his breath.
"Menma-" Jinta cried out hoarsely. His hands were buried in his shaggy dark hair, tugging roughly at the locks, as if the physical pain could somehow erase the emotional guilt he still felt. Was she appearing before her brother wishing to find him again? What would she do if she discovered he had moved far away? Surely that would make her sad. It'd make Menma lonely, even make her cry.
Or maybe this time, she was guiding her brother - nurturing his broken heart until he could say goodbye to his sister. Did she think Jinta didn't need her anymore? That he had moved on and didn't wish to see her?
"I miss you. I want to see you, talk to you, hear your voice. Menma, come back. Please, why won't you come back?"
Letting the tears spill over, fat droplets splashed on to the floor. His wrists became wet from the tears that were pooling in his hands. Now he had begun to cry again, he couldn't hold the tears back. It had been years since he had last cried, and every time he had been alone when the floodgates opened. There had been nobody there to brush aside his hair, or to hold him tightly as the sobs shook his body.
Nothing except...
That one small hand which had reached out and caressed his cheek, tenderly.
Her face blazed in his mind, causing a hot flash to spread across his entire body, right down to his fingertips. It was too much. He couldn't cope with this. He couldn't manage this pain, nor lock it away and keep it buried in the furthest corners of his mind. She would always be there; she would always be waiting for his guard to drop.
"Jintan."
The quiet, muffled voice drifted through the air like a light breeze. The air seemed to stroke his face gently, as if his name spoken held some kind of weight.
Wait...Jintan?
Snapping his head up, vision still blurred and out of focus, Jinta almost thought he must have been hallucinating when he saw that familiar form in front of him. It had been years and yet she was still the same. Granted she looked taller and if he looked as hard as his tear stained eyes would allow, she even appeared older, it was still her.
Menma.
"This isn't possible. You can't be…you left. You disappeared! You moved on! You left us!" Jinta wailed, shaking his head back and forth rapidly, refusing to let the apparition before him delude him that his childhood sweetheart was indeed stood before him.
"Jintan, it is me. I could hear you. Your heart, I heard it crying, screaming. Just like my brother's."
After swallowing the dry lump in his throat, Jinta found his voice, "But you shouldn't be here. You were already a ghost, how can you come back again?"
She smiled and ducked her head. As he wiped his eyes, her image smeared then refocused. Her hair was even longer now, face more angular and sculpted. While her figure was still slender and willowy, those blue eyes still carried their childish kindness he had fallen in love with all those lifetimes ago.
"It's complicated. I couldn't be reborn yet...so I chose to look over you all for a bit longer. I was going to leave soon, to complete the last stage but...I can't leave when you're like this."
"What about your brother? He needs you more than I do. I…I already took you from him back then, when he couldn't see you. I can't do that again."
Shaking her head, anguish coloured her ethereal face. A faint white glow was radiating from her skin, making Meiko seem even less real. Jinta wanted to reach out to touch her, but feared she might vanish if he did.
"I can't go to him. What he saw was indeed me, but I cannot interfere. If I stay with him, he will only deny my death more. My brother has closure, but not acceptance. My absence is all I can offer him."
When Jinta believed he could stand without his legs quivering, he got to his feet. He wasn't able to stand up fully, and his arms shook slightly but it was good enough. He looked Meiko in the eyes and asked the only question that he felt he could:
"So why is it only me, just like last time?"
Another smile, except this time it was a timid one. As a child Meiko had always been unsure of herself, never quite confident with how she conveyed herself. He could tell she was searching for the exact right words. The words she meant right from the heart.
"Because you were the boy who always waited and never gave up. Now it's Menma's turn to make your wishes come true. It's Menma's turn this time, Jintan."