Silent Worlds: Dial Tone Book 2

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That was close

Yakusoku blinked, and just that rapidly the snow and the scraping pain against his shoulder and back vanished. No Maria dragging him back to his doom. Just Rebecca; and his arm extended out to her.

‘What the Hell was that?’ He wondered when the offered phone was left in his hand. He looked down and watched the woman retract her hand from his. ‘Was that a premonition? Is it possible?’

“Good luck with your call...” She sounded almost hesitant about something but walked out of the room up the stairs.

“Thank.. you.” Dialing his house, he waits for someone to pick up the phone but instead he got the voicemail. “Mom, I know you can’t hear me like this were an answering machine, but I really need you to listen. Those notes weren’t from me- I mean, they were from me, but I didn’t wanna write them. I’m staying at someone’s house, but... I’m gonna borrow some money and take a bus or a plane home. I swear I’m coming home.”

He hung up, unsure if his call even got through on the broken phone. But he tried for Ai’s cell. Kids are always pretending that they’re asleep when really they’re awake. He did it all the time! Although, his staying up late was brought on by fear rather than late-night curiosity.

‘Damn. Voicemail.’

“It’s pretty late; if your friend isn’t coming soon, there are some towels and things for you to shower with. You can sleep in my son’s bedroom.”

He ignored the fact that she startled him half to death, and instead focused on the words she’d just spoken. “Thank you.” He smiled, making his dirt-smattered face even more pathetic looking to the woman.


It was euphoric the way the water ran over Yakusoku’s naked body. He felt shameful when a low moan escaped from his throat due to the heat wrapping around his stiff limbs and tight joints. The best part of it was that there is no Maria to wrap her arm around his waist. No Maria to wrap her hand around his cock and force him hard. Just himself and a comfortable heat. His knees buckled beneath him, and he lowered himself down onto all fours allowing the water to wash over him.

He felt tears coming, hard, loud- judging from the parting of his lips- tears. But he stopped himself. He is not going to cry. Not now. He’ll cry when he’s safe when he’s sure it won’t make a difference that he’s taking a break in order to do it. Right now, he just wanted the welcomed scorch of the shower water.

“It’s Hakuo.” He said upon seeing a shadow move beside him that wasn’t his hair, lengthened by wetness.

“What is?” Asks Mamoru; sticking his fingertips under the spray he gathers droplets to them, flicking them at Yakusoku.

“Don’t play dumb.” He snipped at him. “Hakuo is my name. ...My birth name.” Sitting down as though he were taking a bath, he looks to where his imaginary friend is seated on the edge of the tub, then down at his own body frowning that he’s almost skeletal. “But you kept it translated to Phoenix, why is that? Did you not want me to know?”

“Well,” Scoffed Mamoru before being cut-off.

“What do you get out of my not knowing my birth name? It shouldn’t make a difference to you, you want me to know who I am... that’s why you won’t let go of my birth family.”

“Geez, what’s with the attitude towards me all of a sudden? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You have actually,”

“Oh yeah, like what?!”

“You’re lying to me about who you are!” He hissed back just as loudly as he’d been spoken to.

“Oh yeah! Then who am I?” His tone is mocking, cocky as always.

Yakusoku shook his head, he wasn’t sure if it were in disbelief or over the fact that he’s having the conversation at all. He’s well beyond qualified to head down the road of nuts in that big white truck either way.

Sniffling, and removing water from his face, he found himself shrugging.

“It’s because you’re full of shit, and trying to get on the nerves of the one person who’s on your side.”

“That isn’t it.” He said tiredly.

He is tired too. Bathing tired him out, sulking tired him out, just sitting here now under the water has got him very sleepy. If he had been in the tub, he was sure he would have slept and drowned by now. That revelation was either a relief of not coming to pass or a shame that it couldn’t happen. Let’s see Maria torture him if he’s dead. Although, if Pokemon is anything to go by, psychics are the only thing that can cause harm to a ghost. So she’d win either way. ...Wait? Pokemon? What the hell is he going on about?

Yawning, he blinked his tired eyes while watching the haze of his ghostly-twin turn off the water for him, before chucking a towel down into the tub at his wet body.

Yakusoku lay in the soft, creak-free bed and let his weight just melt. “You’re an alter.” He said while looking up at the ceiling. “You know things about me that I don’t. If I had made you up as you said, you would be saying and doing things and knowing things that I feed you to know. Not the opposite... which either makes me better at making up friends than I know or you an alter ego. But what I don’t understand is why I would have you?” He turns his head to look at the accused male laying beside him. “So start talking... why do I have an alter?”

“Like I said, you grew up hating your abilities- that’s the truth.”

“It doesn’t explain you, though, it doesn’t explain how you can know things about me when I don’t.” Sitting up on his elbow, he looks down at the male.

“That’s the power of having ‘blow them out of the water’ abilities. You can create worlds that you can’t even control.” Patting the worried male on the thigh, he smiles sweetly at him. “Look, I know you’re not gonna take boo hoo for an answer, but will you take the fact that you’re right but it’s better that you not know the details for now?”

“No!” He sits up all the way now. “Were my parents abusive? Did I accidently hurt someone... or kill them?”

He honestly didn’t think he could live with having killed someone, maybe it was better he didn’t know. But there are so many questions lining up now. He was sure that he wouldn’t be able to sleep without the answers. So instead he climbed out of the bed and began rifling through the desk drawer.

Watching attentively, he cocks his head and asks. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m afraid of what will happen if I fall asleep,” He removes a pen and paper from the desk. “Mrs. Rebecca said that her son is a college student, so he’ll have pretty good stationary. If my call didn’t get through because of that shitty phone, there’s a good chance that my letter will reach them.”

“Ohhh,” He crawls excitedly to the end of the bed where he can get a better look at what’s being written since Yakusoku placed the notepad on his knee. “Good thinking, kid. But, wait, you don’t even know where we are, so how are they gonna get you?”

“Yeah but, remember when we” He paused a moment so he could write out what he wanted to say, and he couldn’t word it right if he’s talking to himself- literally. “got money from that lady at the diner?”

“So?”

“It looked strange, it was larger.”

Grinning, he nods. “Riiight. Good call.”

“Thanks.” Removing the sheet of paper he begins to write again.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Making a copy; if Maria does show up and finds the one letter, she’ll be satisfied and won’t bother thinking that there might be this other one.” Folding it, he heads out of the bedroom.

Rebecca was nowhere to be seen and the lights are out all over the house minus a tiny courtesy plug-in stuck in the socket in the upstairs hall. She must have put it there in case the stranger wanted a night rummage for actual food, or if he intended on leaving in the middle of the night.

“I’ll stick one in the mailbox, and slide the other under her door.” Opening the front door, he stuffs the folded letter into the mailbox slot. “I may not know exactly where I am, but she does... and if I’m gone by morning, she’ll at least see that my letter reaches my family.” He points to the address.

“Smarter not harder. I like this side of you.” He drapes an arm around his shoulders. “I think you deserve a treat.”

“Like what? You finally gonna tell me where you really came from?”

Mamoru looked at the male for a long minute, then realized that keeping him in the dark about it wouldn’t do him any more harm than good. “Fine.” He points an accusing finger. “But don’t blame me if you can’t handle it.”

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