Smile of a Ghost
by Mayushii
All copyright materials are property of their respective owners.
A/N: I got the idea for this story while watching The Sixth Sense a few days ago. I'm not sure if they ever mentioned Kuwabara's childhood before Yusuke, but I'm making this up. Hope you enjoy!
"Smile of a Ghost"
Postcognition—visions of a past that was not your own. Kuwabara Kazuma had never tried it before, but his aneki had done it several times. Then again, Shizuru-aneki had accepted her supernatural awareness like it was some kind of gift; she had even made friends with some of the ghosts that came to visit her. Kazuma had been trying for years to put a damper on his own awareness. Aneki had nagged that harboring negative feelings toward his powers would only attract tortured souls, but the fact was that Kazuma didn't want any ghosts drawn to him. He didn't want to see them, and he definitely didn't want to help them move on the way Shizuru-aneki insisted he should.
Tonight was the only exception.
As far as postcognition was concerned, the hardest part for him had been falling asleep with a ghost hovering beside his bed. But eventually he had started to drift, and the ghost's voice chanting the key word helped guide him into the memory.
Smoke. Like the cigarette Shizuru-aneki had sucked on tonight?
Smoke. Like the offerings of incense at the temple a month ago?
Smoke. Like the bread that had burned in the toaster last week?
Something about that last thought locked into place, and Kazuma circled around it for a while, remembering the acrid smell and the black wisps of smoke that had filled the kitchen. He could feel waves of hot air buffeting his face, ruffling his hair and pajamas and causing him to scrunch his eyes shut tighter. A faint roaring sounded in his ears, similar to water rushing over a cliff, but it was the smell that really alerted him to his surroundings. He coughed and choked, eyes snapping open.
Fire, fire everywhere, licking up the walls, gnawing through paper screens, glutting itself on the rafters and spitting ashes down to the dirt floor. He was standing in an old building made of wood and paper, and it was going up in flames.
"Okaasan! Okaasan!" a young girl's voice cried out. "Where are you?"
The girl stumbled through the inferno, tears streaking down her ash-dirtied cheeks as she tripped and fell. Embers burned through the hem of her lily-patterned kimono, and she pulled her knees up against her chest, curling into a fetal position on the floor.
Voices shouted from outside the burning dwelling.
"Tomo-chan! Oh, help me! My daughter is still inside!" came a woman's desperate wails.
An overhead beam groaned loudly, beginning to crack under the combination of the heat of the fire and the roof's weight. Tiny little hands covered the girl's head as showers of burning splinters rained down on her. The skin on the back of her hand sizzled, burning it until it was black and disfigured.
"Tomoko!"
The girl's quiet sobbing led into a hacking cough as smoke entered her lungs. She gasped, trying to breathe oxygen that had already been eaten up by the inferno.
"O-okaasan," she whimpered. "I'm scared..."
The ceiling beam snapped in two. It was crashing to the floor, it was going to fall right on top of her—
Kazuma woke with a start and fell out of his bed.
"T-To-Tomoko," Kazuma panted, wild eyes searching out his surroundings. A pair of enormous black eyes gazed down at him with a equal measures of shame and concern.
"Kazuma-san, are you all right?"
He shifted into a sitting position, staring at the girl standing above him. She was very nice-looking, with long, thick hair and a doll's face complete with tiny nose and mouth, thin brows, and big round eyes that made Kazuma feel funny inside.
"That was you?" Kazuma asked, voice barely audible. Tomoko nodded.
"It happened a long time ago," she murmured. "I haven't been able to find peace since."
The corners of Kazuma's mouth turned down in a frown. He carefully untangled himself from his sheets, Tomoko watching him intently all the while.
"Well, that sounds like a real problem," he commented, rising to his feet with a wad of bedclothes in his hands. He glanced over to the girl, his frown deepening. "Can you think of anything you wanted to do before you died? Something that maybe is tying you down to this world?"
Tomoko shook her head. No, there was nothing she had left unfinished.
"I just can't leave yet," she said, wishing she could explain herself better. "If there is something I need to do, I don't know what it is or how to do it."
Kazuma folded his arms and stared at the plush carpet, tapping his bare foot on the floor. Tomoko played with a few loose strands of her hair and was carefully not looking at him. The silence between them gave Kazuma far too much opportunity to think.
Yesterday afternoon had seemed just like any other one in Sarayashiki. The elementary school had let out early that day—apparently there had been a gas leak in the school's kitchens, and the administration had let the students go home while they sorted through the mess.
He had been walking home with Shizuru-aneki when he had seen Tomoko. The young girl had been admiring the cherry blossoms from the middle of a footbridge that separated the Sarayashiki and Kasanegafuchi areas. There wasn't anything wrong with looking at the cherry blossoms (there were a few girls from his school doing the same thing not far away). What had caught Kazuma's attention was her kimono, something he had only ever seen at matsuri and other ceremonies at the local temple.
It had taken several seconds of staring before Kazuma noticed the girl had no legs.
As he stood frozen with terror, Shizuru-aneki had called back to him. Tomoko had turned and noticed Kazuma's staring. She had looked curious for a moment, and then she had raised her hand, hesitantly waving and smiling. It hadn't calmed Kazuma in the slightest. Screaming like the teenage girls who starred in his favorite horror flicks, he had turned tail and fled, leaving a puzzled older sister and a startled ghost in his wake.
Much to Kazuma's discomfort, Shizuru-aneki had apologized for her little brother's rudeness and invited Tomoko back to the Kuwabara residence. The ghost had attended supper (Shizuru-aneki had prepared an offering of rice, which was eagerly accepted). After that she had followed Kazuma to his room and watched while he did his homework. All the while Kazuma had tried to pretend that he didn't notice the ghost looking over his shoulder.
At last, when Kazuma had been practicing for the kanji exam he would be having the next day...assuming school wasn't canceled again...the ghost had spoken.
"Can you see me?" she had asked cautiously. The tip of Kazuma's pencil broke, and a second later he had jumped out of his chair and curled into a protective ball underneath his blankets.
"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die," Kazuma had chanted under his breath, eyes screwed tightly shut as he covered his head with his hands. He had heard stories about pretty girls in old-fashioned clothing who showed up and dragged unsuspecting children to Hell, and this girl fit the description perfectly.
A hand had settled on his back, stroking gently in what was meant to be a soothing gesture. Kazuma had shivered at first, but he had calmed when he realized that the girl was not trying to pull his soul from his body.
"It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you. I only wondered if you really could see me..."
Kazuma frowned again at the memory. Now that he looked back at it, he wasn't sure why he had been so afraid of Tomoko. She was no more scary than flesh-and-blood girls—in fact, she was much nicer. Unlike the girls in his class, Tomoko hadn't once teased Kazuma about having a horse face or being too tall or having Yankee-style orange hair. Then again, she was a ghost. Maybe the physical world didn't matter as much to her anymore.
"Kazuma-san? Were you thinking of something unpleasant? You seem upset," Tomoko spoke up.
Kazuma shook his head quickly, wondering what sort of look he must have had on his face to make her say that.
"Nope, nothin'!" He grinned and scratched the nape of his neck. Tomoko's eyes softened.
"It's nice seeing you smile," she murmured. "I was worried all you could do was frown."
"Eh? I smile all the time," Kazuma insisted.
Tomoko pouted. "Then why is this the first time I've seen it?"
"Well, I dunno..." Because before now I was afraid you were going to steal my soul and drag me to Hell? "I guess I just wasn't really comfortable with you before."
"But you are now, are you not?"
There was a long pause as Kazuma thought about this. Tomoko stared at him, her mouth pouting and her big black eyes reflecting her worry that she might be causing him discomfort. Kazuma had never met such a thoughtful girl before. Why was that? Why were living girls never so kind and gentle? Had Tomoko been like this when she was alive, or was it the years of existing as a disembodied spirit that had evened her temperament? If that was the case, Kazuma thought, maybe ghosts weren't all bad.
"Kazuma-san?" Tomoko prodded. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said finally. He nodded as if to confirm this to himself. "Yeah, I think I am."
He grinned a little more, and when Tomoko beamed softly in return he felt a squiggle of happiness in his chest. No living girl had ever smiled at him before. If he could make pretty girls smile for him all the time, he wouldn't mind seeing ghosts. Not at all.