Darkness - Shadow
Oct. 31st, 2010 06:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kooriiFandom: Magic Kaito
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Ghosts, Mentions of Canon Character Death.
Genre: Supernatural, Horror.
Words: 762
Chapter Summary: Even a month after his death she expected him to appear from around the next corner, a grin on his face and a flower appearing at his fingertips.
Nyoko paused on her way past her bedroom, a basket full of Kaito's small clothes braced against one hip. The house was eerily silent in the wake of her now departed husband. Even a month after his death she expected him to appear from around the next corner, a grin on his face and a flower appearing at his fingertips. Now, the sound of low murmuring caught her off guard. She fumbled the basket, but kept from dropping it. Kaito was sleeping, she knew. She'd put him down for a nap in her room, because he'd refused to sleep alone since Toichi's death. He said that the bright lights and sounds in his dreams kept scaring him.
Tears pricked at her eyes, even as she moved over to the doorway to see what it was. She was expecting to see nothing, to have had her grief make her imagine things again, or even to see Kaito sitting up and talking to himself. He did that sometimes; such a strong imagination that boy had. What she did see was neither of these.
The basket fell from Nyoko's suddenly nerveless fingers, hit the floor with a thump, and overturned. Small shirts, pants, and underwear scattered everywhere, creating a colorful pattern against the carpet. Nyoko's hands flew up, one to her heart and the other to her mouth. She could not believe what she was seeing, was sure that the stress of having to remain strong for her little boy was getting to her, but no matter how much she blinked it remained there.
Kaito was still curled atop the blankets, his fingers wrapped tightly around the white stuffed rabbit he'd owned for so long, the one Toichi had given him to practice his magic tricks on, and above him hovered a great shadowy mass. It nearly blotted out the light from the window behind it, seemed to suck the very color out of the air. At the edges it was hazier, almost transparent, with the quality of an old, scratched film. It leaned over Kaito, leaned so close it nearly seemed as if it wanted to engulf him. It was from this thing that the murmurs came, soft, almost entrancing, like a chant. Vaguely humanoid in shape, it stroked her son's hair with one amorphous hand.
While the room had warm colors, seemed to glow, and was comfortable with the clutter of Toichi's tricks and toys still scattered liberally over every available surface in the small room it now felt claustrophobic and sinister. What worried her even more was that Kaito had not stirred, could not seem to feel that thing's touch, nor had he been wakened by the noise of the clothes basket. Kaito, who, even as a baby, had always been a light sleeper. In a heartbeat fear for her son welled up and overtook all else. “Get away from him!” she snapped, voice quavering and weak sounding even to her. She could not seem to make herself move forward to grab her son as she so wanted to.
Whether this was some delirium wrought figment, or something worse she would defend her son from it.
It looked up, flowed like oil in water, and appeared to appraise her. She felt as if she were being pressed down, crushed under the immense weight of that scrutiny, and had to grasp the door frame to keep from sinking to her knees. Then a slash of glowing white in the blackness of what could be called its head grinned at her. Nyoko's heartbeat tripled. “T-toichi?” she whispered. Stories of ghosts and spirits assailed her. Had her husband come back from beyond his grave to have one last look? Did the way he died tie him here, unable to move on until his killers were brought to justice?
The grin widened, unmistakeably Kid. Nyoko would know it anywhere. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lost the ability to stand and sunk to her knees, sobbing, in the doorway. The shadowy figure began to fade away, dissipating as light crept furtively back into the room. Kaito sat up on the bed, tiny fists digging into his eyes. When he spotted her he was next to her so fast she'd swear he had teleported. One day he would.
“Mama?” he asked, eyes wide in concern. Tears were welling in them already in reaction to her own wracking sobs. His lips trembled and Nyoko gathered him to her chest.
“It's okay,” she whispered. “Everything will be okay.”
Toichi would watch over them.
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Ghosts, Mentions of Canon Character Death.
Genre: Supernatural, Horror.
Words: 762
Chapter Summary: Even a month after his death she expected him to appear from around the next corner, a grin on his face and a flower appearing at his fingertips.
Shadow
Nyoko paused on her way past her bedroom, a basket full of Kaito's small clothes braced against one hip. The house was eerily silent in the wake of her now departed husband. Even a month after his death she expected him to appear from around the next corner, a grin on his face and a flower appearing at his fingertips. Now, the sound of low murmuring caught her off guard. She fumbled the basket, but kept from dropping it. Kaito was sleeping, she knew. She'd put him down for a nap in her room, because he'd refused to sleep alone since Toichi's death. He said that the bright lights and sounds in his dreams kept scaring him.
Tears pricked at her eyes, even as she moved over to the doorway to see what it was. She was expecting to see nothing, to have had her grief make her imagine things again, or even to see Kaito sitting up and talking to himself. He did that sometimes; such a strong imagination that boy had. What she did see was neither of these.
The basket fell from Nyoko's suddenly nerveless fingers, hit the floor with a thump, and overturned. Small shirts, pants, and underwear scattered everywhere, creating a colorful pattern against the carpet. Nyoko's hands flew up, one to her heart and the other to her mouth. She could not believe what she was seeing, was sure that the stress of having to remain strong for her little boy was getting to her, but no matter how much she blinked it remained there.
Kaito was still curled atop the blankets, his fingers wrapped tightly around the white stuffed rabbit he'd owned for so long, the one Toichi had given him to practice his magic tricks on, and above him hovered a great shadowy mass. It nearly blotted out the light from the window behind it, seemed to suck the very color out of the air. At the edges it was hazier, almost transparent, with the quality of an old, scratched film. It leaned over Kaito, leaned so close it nearly seemed as if it wanted to engulf him. It was from this thing that the murmurs came, soft, almost entrancing, like a chant. Vaguely humanoid in shape, it stroked her son's hair with one amorphous hand.
While the room had warm colors, seemed to glow, and was comfortable with the clutter of Toichi's tricks and toys still scattered liberally over every available surface in the small room it now felt claustrophobic and sinister. What worried her even more was that Kaito had not stirred, could not seem to feel that thing's touch, nor had he been wakened by the noise of the clothes basket. Kaito, who, even as a baby, had always been a light sleeper. In a heartbeat fear for her son welled up and overtook all else. “Get away from him!” she snapped, voice quavering and weak sounding even to her. She could not seem to make herself move forward to grab her son as she so wanted to.
Whether this was some delirium wrought figment, or something worse she would defend her son from it.
It looked up, flowed like oil in water, and appeared to appraise her. She felt as if she were being pressed down, crushed under the immense weight of that scrutiny, and had to grasp the door frame to keep from sinking to her knees. Then a slash of glowing white in the blackness of what could be called its head grinned at her. Nyoko's heartbeat tripled. “T-toichi?” she whispered. Stories of ghosts and spirits assailed her. Had her husband come back from beyond his grave to have one last look? Did the way he died tie him here, unable to move on until his killers were brought to justice?
The grin widened, unmistakeably Kid. Nyoko would know it anywhere. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lost the ability to stand and sunk to her knees, sobbing, in the doorway. The shadowy figure began to fade away, dissipating as light crept furtively back into the room. Kaito sat up on the bed, tiny fists digging into his eyes. When he spotted her he was next to her so fast she'd swear he had teleported. One day he would.
“Mama?” he asked, eyes wide in concern. Tears were welling in them already in reaction to her own wracking sobs. His lips trembled and Nyoko gathered him to her chest.
“It's okay,” she whispered. “Everything will be okay.”
Toichi would watch over them.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 12:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 01:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 01:00 am (UTC)Gave me tears and chills. Lovely :)
no subject
Date: 2010-11-01 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-03 08:54 pm (UTC)Watch DC movie 14 its awsome!!!
no subject
Date: 2010-11-03 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-03 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-03 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-14 12:58 pm (UTC)Nooo sleep for the python tonight, no siree...
-glances about suspiciously at the darker corners of my room-
(More seriously, this nearly made my cry for poor Nyoko, Kaito, and Toichi. It was that emotionally charged.)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-15 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 11:21 am (UTC)And maybe a little bit horrifying?
Oh well. Brilliant as always. XDDD