Nezushi House Spirit

Soul talker

Nezumi sighed as he continued to hammer in the nails. He saw how the house spirit, Shion, stood gapping at him. It was sort of endearing, he supposed. What truly got his attention was how solid the boy's body was becoming the more he worked.

"I don't usually tell people about where I came from." He informed the spirit.

"Well, most humans don't want to know about our world. Even when they flocked here, not many even understood what my family and I were. They assumed us to be servants or workers at the hotel." He explained.

"Yes, I guess that's part of the reason I hide who I am. What I am." Nezumi climbed down from the ladder having fixed a hole near the ceiling.

Turning he looked back at the spirit. Shion. He wouldn't forget that name.

"How about we go have some more tea and talk." He offered.

The wood was used up. He had done all he could for the house at the moment. Shion bowed to him as he swung about to led the way. Nezumi chuckled. Shion was the perfect host. He could definitely see why visitors here assumed him to be employed by the house.

"I'm from a tribe of people who used to live deep in the mountains on the main land." He muttered. Yet Shion heard, he tilted his head.

"Really? Is that why you can see me even when I was hidden?" Shion asked.

Nezumi blinked at him. When had he been hidden? His grey eyes must have given something away. Shion laughed. It was a sound so carefree, so bright, that it stopped Nezumi's feet. He froze in place as he saw the pale face crinkle up, the smile spread wide over the thin nearly gaunt countenance. The red slash that circled the spirits body brightened as the boy laughed with his eyes closed.

"You, you don't..." Shion gasped out holding his jiggling stomach. He bent over to place one hand on his knee.

Gasping for breath, he managed to curb his amusement. Standing back up, still drawing in lungfuls of air, he smiled at Nezumi. To the dark haired observer, it was like the sun peeking out from the darkened clouds after a long storm. He tsked trying to look away. All Nezumi managed to do was turn his head. He still watched the wraith of a boy out of the corner of his eye.

"You didn't even notice!" Shion snickered.

"Was it when you were naked?" Nezumi asked.

His anxiety, insecurity of being laughed at so openly, yet he enjoyed the look it gave the spirit, had made his tone a bit harsh. This seemed to sober Shion.

He reached his hands in the folds of his garment.

"It was. You even caught me while I was in spectral form." He recalled.

"We are human. The tribe I'm from. We just have... ways of seeing the world a bit differently." Nezumi offered.

He didn't say anything more until they were back in the safety of the tiny kitchen. He eyed Shion over the brim of his cup. The spirit looked like that of a teen boy. He couldn't be any older than Nezumi himself, yet there was something ethereal about him. It sent a shiver along the spine of the teen watching him.

"Do you mind if I ask how old you are?" Nezumi asked.

Shion had been starring off into space. He blinked visibly shaking himself back to the present.

"Oh, uh, I don't know." He muttered tracing the line of the wood grain on the table.

"I'm not sure what year it is. The boat man never tells me things like that." He giggled.

"Boatman? Do you mean Rikiga?" Nezumi asked.

One thin shoulder lifted before dropping back in place as Shion shrugged.