'It's been a long time, at least I think it has since I've been a ghost.
I perform duties amongst the living in hope to seek a purpose, perhaps even happiness.
What even defines happiness?
My name is Kira Yoshikage and this is the tragedy of what happiness is...'
'That monk had herself lucky' reflected the soul that aimlessly wandered the streets.
The numbers were as she stated despite the ghost mansion being a nest of cleaners.
The injuries he endured took a while to mend themselves but the thing about being a soul bound to the living, you would survive no matter what.
There was no choice until your purpose was met.
Details of his death or the reasons were still unknown to him. There was no point in knowing, what's done is done and all one can do is find a way to make peace. When he waited for a task to fulfill, whether a murder to create, or call to make; Like a reaper, Kira found himself returning to the same area in Morioh.
It was the same path he trekked when in unconscious thought... when there wasn't a destination to be had. Every time he was lead to a house. It was an ordinary small white house, delicately cared for lawn and flowers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when he caught himself arriving at its picket fence. The spirit paced around its property curious to find clues to the odd phenomenon of always being drawn here. There was admittedly nothing unusual. Only recently did he manage to learn it belonged to the Kawajiri household. A son and his Mother.
After a time, Kira decided to stick around a little. Perhaps spot the residents? At least find a loophole to get permission to enter the home and see why he felt the need to be there.
Two days past before someone exited the house, a small child. The boy looked to as though he was going to school, backpack slung over his shoulder. Kira watched idly, sitting on the fence where he knew he wouldn't interfere. The living panicked easy and it left the wandering soul in disarray when one another collided. Most children his age looked wide-eyed and filled with wonder- this one, though... 'He looks like how I feel' Kira thought to himself studying the child as he reached the main sidewalk. Downcast eyes that were filled to the brim with guilt and misery, like he had already experienced a whole lifetime during his short existence on earth.
"Oy! Hayato! You almost forgot your lunch! Please! " Came a holler from the house, its door swung open wide with a frazzled woman. Her pinkish strawberry hair was in a messy ponytail that previously may have been a bun. Her eyes were glimmering tawny hue, bright and filled with a passion, the opposite of her supposed child.
"Nngh?!" He grunted in response, a binding tightness where his heart should be.
'The hell?' mused the spirit to the contrasting personalities.
"Oh right. Sorry! " The boy expressed in a frantic tone— as if what he did was a crime punishable by death. Running back to her he grasped the bento before kissing the woman goodbye before setting off to school again.
'With the door now open, this might be an opportunity.'
Hopping off the fence he meandered his way towards the door where the woman was leaned against, watching her son leave with a faint smile.
Now with a more exact view, the ghost could examine the bags under her eyes, the whites outside the pupils veined with red.
'Was she was crying?'
That tightness in his chest never left and he couldn't help but feel something intensely. He couldn't describe it, but it hurt and wasn't a hurt a bandaid could fix.
"Do I... know you? " Kira murmured thoughtfully, knowing she couldn't hear him unless he desired her to.