Title: Haunted Nostalgia

Disclaimer: Ookiku Furikabutte is the property of Higuchi Asa; the majority of the onmyoudou spells are quoted verbatim from Mitsuru Yūki & Sakura Asagi's Shounen Onmyouji

Warning: multiple yaoi lemon scenes, but it still has a minimal plot

A/N: I'd be glad to receive corrections—spelling, grammar, punctuation or misinformation. This fanfic can be read as either a side story for "Graduation Day at Nishiura High" or as a standalone.

CHAPTER I

A Memory in the Rain

"Nghhh!"

The erotic sound came from the bedroom of a small apartment shared between third year university students of which door bore the placard containing two names: Hanai Azusa and Tajima Yuuichirou.

At that time, Tajima groaned as he ejaculated inside Hanai, his left hand hoisting his lover's leg, and his right hand interlacing fingers with his ex-captain. His legs became barriers that kept the slightly older man's thighs apart. They were doing the so-called 'spoon' position.

Hanai bit his lower lip, guarding, preventing moans from escaping his lips. There was nothing he could do to remove the blush that adorned his face, though. His hand—the one which was not occupied by Tajima's fingers—grasped the bed sheet in a desperate attempt to still the spasms inside. A futile effort. His body had already been on fire from his lover's first touch.

"You always keep your voice down while we were making love. I want to hear your sexy screams once in a while, you know." Tajima whispered to Hanai's nape.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's embarrassing; I'm not doing it!" Hanai rebuked his boyfriend.

"But Azusa, it's been six years since we first dated, why are you still getting embarrassed?" chuckled Tajima, "Well, although this side of you is really cute too."

"Shut up! And don't keep calling me 'Azusa' either; it's−"

"Embarrassing." Tajima finished Hanai's sentence, accompanied by one more thrust before retracting his member from his partner's butthole in circular motion. "Do you prefer me to call you 'a-na-ta' or 'd-a-r-l-i-n-g' instead?"

"No!" panted Hanai, but his Tajima would not leave him alone. He left a trail of kisses on his lover's flank, starting from neck downwards.

"Hey, that tickles!" Hanai protested when Tajima reached his rib.

Nevertheless, Tajima focused more on that spot, he even added more fingers to tickle his bedmate.

"Stop it Tajima…ha…ha…ha…" Hanai struggled, but his boyfriend held him with both hands.

He only paused briefly to answer "I won't stop until you call me 'Yuuichirou'" and then continued his tongue and teeth ministrations.

After several more tickles, finally Hanai gave up. "OK, OK, Yuuichirou. There, happy?"

"Hmm, I wonder," replied Tajima in a pretentious puzzlement, "If I say no, will I hurt my beloved?"

"You sure demand a lot." Hanai spoke in softer tone this time. But that was not all; he also rolled, tackled his boyfriend to move underneath him and nibbled the latter on the earlobe. He nuzzled his head on the crook of Tajima's neck afterwards. Sleeping in Tajima's embrace had grown into an addiction to Hanai—not that his boyfriend minded anyway. Leaning on Tajima's bare chest, Hanai listened to the sound of their synchronizing breaths.

It was then thunder clapped in the sky.

Imagining the rain outside their curtained window, Tajima asked, "Remember Azusa, in a stormy day like this, six years ago, you rejected my feelings?"

Hanai found his cheeks suffused with heat, but he nodded.

"And we made love for the first time on the same day?"

Rather than delivering his answer verbally, Hanai interlaced his fingers with Tajima once more. His mind recalled the unforgettable memory.

###

Summer holiday came at last. With nothing else to do in particular, the fifteen-year-old Tajima visited Hanai's house everyday that Hanai's family even acknowledged him as "onii-chan's best friend." Today, however, Tajima arrived forty minutes earlier than his usual time and noticed the door swung open and Hanai burst out of it, trying to adjust his shoes while striding.

"Yo, Hanai, what's the hurry?"

'Crap! I thought I could get away from him for a day at least! Why does he have to be so early, today of all times?' With a troubled expression, the Nishiura baseball team captain answered, "I don't want to miss the bus; it only has hourly service."

"Where are you going?" Tajima asked, still as cheerful as always.

"My grandpa's house."

"Why don't you take your siblings with you, they're on holiday too, right?"

"They whined about the old man getting too talkative, the distance too far, bus sickness, a waste of time and other plans with their friends."

"Hmm," commented Tajima, "So in the family it's just you alone who misses your grandpa enough to visit him. You're a good family man, Hanai!"

'It's not that I really miss him; I don't want to see you every day!' Tajima probably did not mean a thing when he mentioned about the good family man, but Hanai felt a sudden rushing heat on his cheeks and ears, fully knowing this had nothing to do with the summer sun.

"I know!" exclaimed Tajima, "I'll go with you. I'm not so coldhearted to let my best friend go alone."

"You don't need to. I'm fine on my own. And since when have you become my best friend?"

"No need to be shy. Everybody says so. Besides, we're practically together every day."

On and on they argued along the way to the bus stop. It was not until Tajima pointed, "Here comes the bus." that Hanai fully realized it had already been too late to shake his hyperactive teammate off his life that day. 'Stuck with Tajima again,' he sighed.

Naturally, Hanai wanted to sit separately from Tajima, but his insensitive teammate insisted otherwise. "Hanai, look, the mountain!" Tajima pointed excitedly at the window as the bus rolled by, passing the countryside.

"Yeah."

"Hanai, look, the sky!"

"Can't you see the sky from your own house?"

"Hanai, look, the trees!"

"Tajima, how old are you?"

"I was born in the same year as you were, but on October 16th, while you were on April 28th."

'He even memorizes my birthday?' "Whatever. I'm sleepy; quit nudging me!" With that, the captain pretended to sleep.

"Hold on, Hanai, how do we know we're supposed to get off?"

"I've already set my cell phone alarm to beep a hundred and seventy-five minutes from our departure; the journey should take a total of two hundred minutes," replied Hanai without bothering to open his eyes.

Tajima stopped talking now. A surge of guilt arose in Hanai's mind. What if he offended Tajima? 'No, Tajima is too thickheaded to regard such triviality as an offence,' Hanai consoled himself inwardly. 'Besides, how can I keep an arm length from Tajima if I'm worried of hurting him in every single occasion?'

Slowly Hanai drifted off to real slumber.

He opened his eyelids again at the none-too-gentle shake on his shoulder. Tajima was waking him up.

"What?"

"It's been nearly four hours since we hopped on the bus. I fell asleep myself, sorry."

Hanai checked his cell phone. He had previously forgotten that its silent mode was still on. Now it became no wonder that it had not beeped at the allotted time. It had indeed vibrated, but since it had been inside Hanai's backpack instead of pocket, he had failed to notice the vibration either.

"We'd better walk back." Thus, the two of them hopped off at the next stop.

"Hey Hanai, are you sure this is a good idea?" Tajima looked at the sky, which was gray with heavy clouds.

"Don't worry; I have an umbrella with me," assured the captain while making an indication towards his backpack. But then, the baldy felt sick; in his head emerged a visualization of Tajima and himself walking under the same umbrella for God knew how long…

Even so, Hanai did not have long enough to keep his imagination alive, for what he dreaded became a reality soon. The rain mercilessly poured down from the sky. Hanai gulped at the friction between Tajima's shoulder and his own. They were two adolescents sharing one 100-yen plastic umbrella; it was not unexpected that this shelter was too small for them.

'Calm down Azusa! There was nothing to be nervous about; you shared your umbrella with Mihashi, Shinooka, Mizutani and Izumi too, didn't you?'

'But I did not feel nervous when I was with any of them… Why is it only with Tajima that I feel this uncomfortable?'

The cats-and-dogs rain kept tumbling down, but what made it worse was the forty-two-knot tropical storm that came with it. Unquestionably, the umbrella could not withstand the harsh weather and the two boys had to run to find the nearest refuge, which happened to be an old Japanese traditional style house.

"Hello, is anybody there?" Hanai half-shouted just outside the shouji sliding door, his voice drowned by the turbulence of the storm. This type of door was segmented into square grids and covered with white rice paper; hence, unsuitable for knocking.

"I doubt that anyone lives here," commented Tajima after scrutinizing his surroundings. Pieces of tiled roof and planks of wood were scattered here and there. Several cracks appeared on the walls. An old broom lay neglected on the yard. There was no dog plate, littering bag, or indeed anything else to indicate that this house was currently occupied.

Hanai slid the door open and, upon entering, spoke, "Pardon our intrusion."

Inside, they could only find broken furniture and very dusty tatami floor. There was neither tap water nor electricity. No matter how they looked at it, this house had been empty for years.

The two boys settled themselves to sit in the nearest room. Since it was windowless, there was no sunlight to break out the darkness. Hanai tried to call his grandfather, informing the old man that he was going to be late. However, his cellphone displayed the 'no signal' sign.

Barely ten minutes passed, and yet, Tajima's stomach had begun to grumble.

"Here," offered Hanai, "I was going to have lunch at grandpa's house, so I didn't bring anything consumable apart from this chocolate bar and a bottle of water."

"Thanks Hanai, but you'd better keep those for yourself. I'm good."

"Don't be stupid! What sort of captain would let his team member starve?"

"I can't believe you still bring out this captain stuff outside the baseball field," remarked Tajima, his stomach rumbled once again.

"All right," Hanai replied, "I'll take half of it and you can have the other half. The same goes for the drink."

The freckled boy looked at his captain appreciatively before murmuring, "O.K. Thanks."

Thus, Hanai broke the chocolate bar into halves and handed one piece to Tajima.

Holding his share of food and drink, Tajima asked, "Did you hear something?"

Hanai squinted and stayed quiet. Then, seconds later, he started to hear some vague wailings. Hanai gulped. Forcing a smile on his sweat-dripping face, he answered, "That wasss just s-ss-some wind, right?"

Tajima shrugged. "Dunno. Sounds like wails to me."

"Stop it, Tajima!" Hanai's voice was alarmingly rising now and Tajima finally understood that his friend was trying to drop the subject all along. Never had he realized before that Hanai had a fear for supernatural things. The shelter they were currently in was spooky; the possibility that it was haunted was not that low.

For a moment, Tajima seemed to seriously consider whether to tease his friend a bit more or to be sympathetic with him. Then, for the first time in his life, he noticed how stiff the captain's back could be. Hanai was even gripping his own trousers. Probably, the baldy went pale, as well, but Tajima could not see his teammate's color in the dark. The freckled boy took a breath slightly deeper than usual, "Have you listened to SunSet Swish's newest song?"

"Huh?" Hanai raised his brow, but then realized his friend's good intention to occupy his attention away from fright. "Oh, the one called 'Arigatou'? Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

The gale outside sent the watering pot in the yard flying and it knocked the wall. The clamorous clunk of metal startled both boys, who stopped their conversation at once.

Following a moment of silence, a groan—a slight, but definite one—filled the air.

Both boys gulped. They told themself inwardly that it wasbroad daylight out there—well, rainy, but not nighttime anyway. Ghosts should only appear at nighttime, shouldn't they?

Casting a worried glance at his teammate, Tajima perceived that Hanai seemed to grow stiffer by the second. Tremor had found its way down every marrow in Hanai's bones. How the Nishiura captain wished he knew how to stop fear running below his skin, to prevent his blood from running cold, to block his nerves from wringing! But in this embalmed darkness, it became harder to ignore the shiver in his spine.

Tajima realized that no matter how afraid he was at the moment, Hanai suffered even greater fright. Hence, he spoke with the most casual tone he could muster, "Ah, sorry! That was my stomach. Don't worry about it since I'm going to eat the chocolate that you gave me."

"You've got a weird sound for a stomach rumble." Hanai's voice was quiet. Both boys knew Hanai did not buy Tajima's story, but thought it would be better for them to make believe out of it. Tajima then tore the chocolate wrapper and began to munch. Hanai did the same.

Two minutes after both boys finished their food and drink, their ears caught the sound of breathing—the breathing that was not their own. Heavy. Ragged. Painful. Frightening. It was a sort of the laborious breathing when one was enduring agony.

Cold sweat broke from both boys' temples. They waited in disquieted state, both eager and anxious to know what would happen next.

Waited.

And waited.

The room was so quiet now that they could even hear the sound of water dropping from the tiled roof outside.

They waited still.

"Hanai." At last, Tajima's voice broke the dreadful silence of that old house.

His captain did not respond.

"Hanai! Hanai!" Tajima shook his friend by the shoulders, but Hanai uttered no word, his body trembling still, and his eyes widened with fear. Chill had descended upon his bones.

"Azusa, look at me!"

When he received no response still, Tajima decided to take the drastic measure. He tilted his captain's chin with one hand and held the latter's nape with the other before proceeding to press his lips onto his teammate's own.

Hanai woke up from the trance of his own fear at last, for a new horror had invaded him.

"WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU? ARE YOU POSSESSED?" even while yelling, Hanai trembled. How he wished he had his baseball bat with him at times like this.

"That's more like the Hanai I know of," smiled the carefree clean-up hitter.

"You didn't need to kiss me just to… to…" He could not continue. His first kiss had just been stolen from him. He was relieved that Tajima was not possessed, but the shock from his action was too overwhelming.

"I know. Sorry. Can't help it." He paused to draw a deep breath. "I've been in love with you for months now."

Hanai could not believe—no, he did not want to believe—such words finally came out from Tajima's mouth. His worst nightmare was coming true. He was petrified for a couple of seconds before eventually snapping, "Stop it Tajima! It's gross! I'm not a homo, OK!"

At any other day, Tajima would laugh and tease him, "What are you saying? Of course you're a homo. All humans are homo sapiens." Today, however, he offered a quiet smile to accompany his reply. "I thought you'd say that. That's why I tried not to tell you my feelings. That way, we could've stayed as friends and teammates."

"Why?" the captain finally managed to speak, his tongue heavy with guilt, "I thought you were straight. You even brought magazines of nude girls to school several times."

"I used to use those magazines to jerk off," he admitted, "but lately I can't anymore…not unless I pictured you in my mind."

"Forget what I asked you," Hanai got up hastily and withdrew onto one corner of the room, clearly repressing a sigh.

Tajima stayed where he was, but turned around and folded his legs so that he could rest his chin on both knees. Only his back was visible to Hanai.

The air grew colder—chilling enough to stir goosebumps on both boys' napes. They passed the minutes in silence. Not long after, however, Hanai thought he heard a sob. 'Crap, Tajima's crying! What should I do?'

But the clean-up hitter turned to him instead and asked, "Hanai, you weren't crying just now, were you? The voice sounds different from yours."

"No, I thought that was you," answered the captain truthfully.

The sobbing continued even louder than before.

"T-tajima, y-you sssure you haven't learnt ventriloquism or something?"

"Hanai, even if I had, I wouldn't be able to speak with my mouth and stomach at the same time! Look, I'm talking to you right now and the sobbing hasn't ceased!" A tinge of anxiety colorized his voice; he was not dauntless himself.

Deep inside, Hanai knew Tajima was telling the truth. Nevertheless, the emergence of a sudden malodor now added worries to his mind, "B-but then who…?"

"It's me!" A disfigured figure appeared from the ceiling, hanging upside-down like a bat on a tree branch. She emitted a strange, otherworldly glow that permitted beholders to inspect every aspect of her, down to the last detail. Her kimono was red, though not any redder that the blood that kept dripping from many parts of her body. Her long disheveled hair cascaded freely, revealing the scarred face underneath it. Her complexion assumed the luridness of a cadaverous hue. One of her sockets was empty, and, judging from the slits around it, there was no doubt that sharp objects had been utilized to disgorge that eye. It was from her that the putrid odor, mixed with decay, came.

Hanai was too petrified to do anything, even as much as to move a muscle. On the other hand, Tajima, who was always better with reflexes, grabbed his hand in a flash, snatching him away and breaking into a run.

The next second, Hanai blinked, gasped and panted. Alongside Tajima, he fumbled toward the exit. The distance felt farther and farther… it was as though they had been running on a gigantic treadmill and that the exit door could retreat from them at will. What supposedly to be less than three meter run was more exhausting than two and a half kilometer run for their daily practice.

Upon reaching the shouji door at long last, they could only find themselves in a direr situation: The door could not be opened. Both boys tried to slide, pull, push and even break the door, but it wouldn't budge still, as though being held custody by some invisible bolt.

"No use in doing that," sneered the ghost in red kimono, "I've sealed it with my power." She had been chasing them while keeping her feet on the ceiling, moving in a smooth glide.

"Dammit!" muttered Tajima.

The vengeful spirit's lacerated fingers were only inches away, encased in fetid rancidity… The two boys had no choice but to retreat from the hallway into the next room.

In there, however, another ghost had been waiting for them. He was a boy around their age, but wearing shuou attire and asagutsu shoes from the late Nara period, though without the eboshi hat. Unlike the girl's ghost, this one emitted neither evil aura nor acrid fetor. In fact, apart from his semi-transparent apparition and mystique glow, everything else about him seemed normal. Unlike most ghosts who typically floated in the air due to the absence of legs, this one seemed to stand on the ground. No hitodama or will-o'-wisp surrounded him.

Tajima and Hanai hesitated, but they had no choice. They couldn't turn back; the vengeful female ghost with grayish green veins bulging all over her exposed skin was less than two meters away from them.

The male ghost chanted "Rin. Pyou. Tou. Sha. Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen" while performing kujikiri or Mudra of the Nine Cuts simultaneously. His finger gesture changed so fast from one mudra to another. At one point, his with all fingers interlocked inwards, with thumbs extended and together. After Hanai blinked, this ghost's left index finger was pointing up, with the fingers of the right hand curled around it, while the right thumb was pressed against the outside edge of the nail of the pointing finger. Before the next second lapsed, his hand gesture had changed, yet again, with every syllable he pronounced. These were all too fast for Hanai's eyes to follow each detail. Perhaps Tajima with his superior eyesight would be able to see them all.

Next, the ghost of the Nara boy delegated his hand to form a hexagram out of thin air, declaring, "Akuryou taisan!"

Much to Hanai and Tajima's surprise, the horrendous ghost of the girl in red kimono could not enter that room as a result.

The Nara boy chanted, "On handomadara abogyajayani soro soro sowaka!"

Now the onryou—ghost who returned to the physical world in order to seek vengeance—could not advance and she could not retreat either; completely confined in a barrier.

"How dare you do this to me, accursed onmyouji!"

But the Nara boy folded his hands with all fingers interlocked inwards and thumbs extended together while reciting another mantra, "On hirota kisha nogajiba tai sowaka on chiri chi ibaro."

He must be using that particular mantra to learn about her thoughts and feelings, for soon he said, "Poor soul, you were mistreated, tortured and killed. But the master who did all those heinous acts is no longer in this world. Even if you continued consuming the souls of the living, you wouldn't be able to meet him to have your revenge. On the contrary, if you leave this world behind, you will meet him in the netherworld."

Hesitation clouded the vengeful ghost's expression, but after a moment, it softened. "Will you deliver me to him?"

"Yes," he affirmed, "With pleasure."

Next, he folded both hands with the last two fingers extended into the shape of a "v", but the thumbs are extended, while the other fingers interlocking inwards. "On jiretarashī taraji barata no oh sowaka."

Harmony then swept over the female ghost. Her grim face became peaceful. Her pores no longer gushed blood and the blood that had been dripping were congealing. Even her hair was not as disheveled. Soon her body dispersed into ethereal molecules.

Only when her existence had completely disappeared did Tajima exhale in relief and remarked, "Thanks for saving us."

"You're welcome," the Nara ghost nodded.

Tajima spoke again, with more excited tone this time, "That was amazing. I thought one needed salt and holy water for exorcism, or ofuda—talisman bearing a deity's name—but you only used mantras."

"I myself am an insubstantial being. I cannot touch, let alone wield, earthly materials," replied the ghost.

"Are you a goryou?" asked Tajima again, now obsessed in interviewing a real ghost.

"No," smiled the Nara boy. "Nevertheless, I understand that you thought I was a vengeance ghost from the aristocratic class because of my raiment."

Hanai, who was still pale-faced, could not utter a word.

Tajima proceeded with more question, "So, what's the story? The idea of a ghost exorcising another ghost is unheard of."

"I am called Ashikaga no Masayuki by name. Back in the Nara period, I used to be an onmyouji, but I broke a taboo. It is part of the punishment that I ended up as a ghost."

"What taboo thing?" asked Tajima in pure curiosity.

"Tajima!" Hanai's pale complexion started to regain its color and he reproached his team member at once for asking such private question.

"It's all right," replied the ghost, "I was going to tell you anyway, since I need your help. But first, please have a seat."