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He never believed in magic.
To him, magic was a mere form of entertainment, something he had only seen in shows. It’s a kind of trickery that created illusions to mess with one's mind. But there's another magic more wicked than the flashy kind he had often witnessed. A dark and powerful sorcery, a little bit fascinating, but far more threatening.
With heavy footsteps, a tall redhead walked into the narrow alleyway. He glanced at his watch to check the time. There was only a minute left before the witching hour.
“You see, the witch of the alleyway
can grant you any wish,” they say.
It was the talk going around town. About a witch who granted someone a wish. The catch was someone must have an intense desire for the witch to show up and give you anything you want. Even though it was very tempting, no one else dared to visit the witch's alleyway. Many were cowards, others felt skeptic, and the rest just didn't care.
But he was desperate, and he knew he needed it more than anyone else. There's no harm in trying was what he thought. He had one whole hour to wait for her and he was determined she would definitely show herself. Every now and then, he would anxiously look around and got jumpy at every little noise he heard.
Fifteen minutes had passed and he unwearyingly stood still and waited for the witch. He got his feet glued to the ground in the middle of the alleyway, eyes glaring straight ahead into that dark and empty far corner.
Tick tock
Tick tock
She's going to show up.
She's going to show up.
The time continued to pass by but he never once doubted and inside his head he unceasingly chanted, She's going to show up.
She's going to show up.
“You're looking at the wrong side, young man.”
He was startled but he never showed it. He knew he had to be brave. He gradually turned around to face the one he wanted to seek. It was rather hard to tell that the witch was a woman if she hadn't spoken. Her voice was feminine yet deep and a little raspy. The witch was as tall as him and as he looked closely, he could see that she had the same built as well. She was dressed in a long black cloak that covered her entirety. The hood was even overshadowing her whole face. All he could see before him was blackness. Relief washed over him since he wasn't sure if he was bold enough to look at her face and not falter.
“Now tell me your story.”
The redhead did one sharp intake of breath, waited for a while to keep the pump and beat of his heart at a normal pace, and then he released the air he had held briefly. With an unwavering spirit, he had begun talking in a calm, controlled way.
“They say you grant wishes—”
“A wish. Only one wish.”
“Someone dear to me got into an accident. It took away something important to him. The Doctor said there's no possibility that he could use his legs again. He's most beautiful when he's playing basketball. Please, make him play again.”
The redhead had nearly stammered just as he felt his lips slightly quivered. He had never wanted anything more than to see his lover play again, beaming in eternal joy and full of confidence. He knew how much he loved the sport, how that sport played an important role in their lives. He clenched both his fists. He had no room for hesitation, he had to believe. He had to put his faith on her.
“You see, the witch of the alleyway
can grant you any wish,” they say.
The witch had begun uttering.
But one thing they never tell,
there's a deal before she casts the spell.
“A deal...”
“I may grant your wish but not without something in return.”
“I'm willing to give you anything—”
The redhead almost shouted but the witch remained motionless.
“But listen young man, once the deal is sealed, you can never go back on your word. It's going to be a blessing to him and to you... a curse.”
“I have no intention of turning back. I have made up my mind.”
The witch was quite impressed but chuckled a little since she saw the redhead trembled.
“Don't be afraid. I don't take lives. But, I don't need... just anything.”
The witch took a big step forward before she disappeared right before his eyes.
“I want the most important thing.”
Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him during at that time that he felt frantic and restless all at once. Her presence was something heavy, something dark, something eerily terrifying.
“What's your most important?”
She pushed herself closer. And in a ghastly voice, she softly breathed.
“Tell me.”
The redhead didn’t even think twice.
“Basketball.”
“Taiga!”
A bluenette was running around a dimly lit apartment, trying to find someone he wished to see ever since the Doctor delivered the good news that morning. He wasn’t supposed to get out of the hospital yet but he just couldn’t wait, he needed to see him, he needed to show him.
He paused for a second as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes roamed around the empty living room, mindless of the beads of sweat that had trailed down the side of his face.
“Taiga!”
He yelled once more, a bit forcefully than before. It was 6 p.m. and he hadn’t caught a glimpse of the redhead all day, he was aching to see and touch him already.
“I’m here.”
Before he knew it, the bluenette’s body moved on its own, heading towards the source of that faint, deep voice. Where exactly is here? He pushed the door to their bedroom but darkness only welcomed him. He went to the next one and there he finally found him. But, why the guest room?
“Don’t turn on the light, please.”
The bluenette wondered but obliged at the simple request. He walked around the room and stopped for a moment when he passed in front of a large mirror. He marveled at himself, staring at his legs with pure amazement.
“Taiga, look! The Doctor said it’s a miracle but I can play basketball again. We can play basketball again. This is totally awesome! I don’t need to go through those therapy sessions ‘cause he said I’m perfectly healthy. I can finally go home! I kinda rebelled and went home today but I still have to go back and—“
He spun around to see the redhead half lying on their bed, looking outside the window with a soft smile plastered on his face. The room’s only source of light was the moon and it shone right on his lover’s refined facial feature but he could feel it, there was something wrong with him.
“Taiga? Hey. Are you even listening?”
He remarked while he earned a soft giggle from the redhead.
“Yes, yes baby. That’s really amazing. Why don’t you come over here, Daiki?”
“Liar!”
The witch screeched near his face. He immediately turned his head but then she was gone again. He looked ahead and there she was again, standing in front of him.
“You love basketball. But right now, it is not the most important thing in your life.”
Bit by bit she pulled the hood and the man could only agape. There, he saw the face he hold dear as he tried to fight back the tears. Using the voice of the one he loved, the witch continued to talk.
“You don’t care if you can’t play basketball as long as you can see him play.”
It was nothing but a fancy illusion but he couldn’t help himself. He astoundingly looked at the very familiar handsome face, imprinting every curve, every line, and every spot he could observe.
“I’m not going to make you a cripple or cut your wrists. I want those beautiful ruby eyes. That is, if you still want me to grant your wish.”
He took his time walking to the bed, marveling at his feet as they touched the ground, grinning as he felt the cold hard floor against the rough and warm flesh of his soles.
The bluenette looked up at his lover and tackled him on the bed, their whole body pressed against each other. He had his arms snaked around the redhead's lithe waist while he felt the other's arms crawled around his own. He sighed in contentment and rubbed his nose on the redhead's neck.
"I missed you love."
He softly mouthed using a tone he rarely used then he pushed himself up on his elbows to stare down at the gorgeous man lying beneath him, but what he had seen was something he wasn't even the least expecting. His striking red orbs were now gray and void as if there was nothing but emptiness staring back at his very soul.
"Taiga... What have you done?"
The bluenette gently cupped the other’s face, remorse and confusion were creeping in. He hesitantly ran his fingers across the smooth skin of the man who was lovingly smiling at him. A lone tear fell from the dead eye he knew he still adorned. He kissed the tear away and with an unsteady hand, he took the redhead’s left hand as he placed short kisses on each knuckle. That moment, he hadn’t even noticed his own tears traveling down his face.
“I hope you loved the gift. Happy Birthday, Daiki. I love you.”