We didn't go home.
Of course not.
Because Niran suddenly stopped, grabbed my wrist, and turned down a street I had never seen before.
"…Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
"I hate that answer."
He didn't slow down.
—
The building looked wrong.
Not just old—
abandoned.
Windows cracked. Paint peeling. The door half open like it was waiting.
I stopped.
"…No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"I'm not going in there."
He turned, deadpan.
"You literally share a bed with a ghost."
"That was ONE TIME."
"Multiple times."
"…That's not the point."
He stared at me.
Then—
grabbed my sleeve again and pulled.
"Come on."
"I'm reporting you."
"To who?"
"…I don't know."
Too late.
We were inside.
—
The air felt heavy.
Like something was already there.
Watching.
I swallowed.
"…If something jumps out—"
"It won't."
"That is not reassuring."
Niran walked ahead casually, like this was his second home.
Then—
he clapped.
Once.
The sound echoed too loud.
Too long.
And then—
movement.
Not loud.
Not sudden.
Just—
appearing.
One.
Two.
Five.
Shapes turning into people.
Ghosts.
Some looked almost normal.
Pale. Quiet.
Others—
weren't.
A boy with a torn collar and dried blood along his neck.
A girl with stains down her sleeve like something had spilled and never stopped.
Another standing too still, eyes too sharp.
I froze.
"…Oh."
Niran leaned closer.
"Don't scream."
"I'm not screaming."
"You're about to."
"I AM thinking about it."
They looked at me.
All of them.
And for a second—
it was tense.
Quiet.
Like they were deciding something.
Then—
"…He's the one?"
A girl stepped forward.
Normal face.
Not-so-normal eyes.
Niran nodded.
"My person."
I pointed at him.
"…I hate that title."
She smiled slightly.
"He's nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
"You're shaking."
"I'm adjusting."
Another ghost chuckled softly.
"He's funny."
"That's how they cope," someone else added.
I blinked.
"…They?"
"Humans."
"Wow. Grouped already."
A boy leaned against a broken wall.
"We're not evil."
I swallowed.
"…That's good."
"Yet," he added.
"…You all need to stop adding 'yet' to things."
They laughed.
Not loud.
But enough to make the room feel… less tight.
Still tense.
Just—
different.
Niran crossed his arms.
"They're fine."
I looked at him.
"…You brought me here to meet your ghost friends?"
"Yes."
"That is the weirdest sentence I've ever lived through."
One of them stepped closer.
"…How are you holding up?"
I paused.
"…Badly. But quietly."
"Good strategy."
"Thank you."
Then another girl moved behind me.
I immediately stiffened.
"…Why are you behind me."
"Relax."
"I don't trust that word anymore."
She didn't answer.
Instead—
her hand hovered near my back.
Not touching.
Just… there.
I felt it.
That strange cold-warm thing.
Then—
she tilted her head.
"…Yeah."
I turned slightly.
"…Yeah what?"
She pointed.
"His back."
I froze.
"…Not this again."
Niran sighed.
"Oh no."
She stepped closer, squinting like she was studying something.
"His shirt lifted earlier."
I blinked.
"…When?"
Niran smirked.
"When you were lying down."
I immediately grabbed the back of my shirt.
"…You were looking??"
"I observe," he said calmly.
"That is illegal."
The girl nodded.
"Also he keeps rubbing it."
I paused.
"…I do not."
She raised a brow.
"You did just now."
I stopped moving.
"…Okay, maybe once."
"Twice," Niran corrected.
"Stop counting."
She tilted her head again.
"It's clear though."
"What is?"
Niran stepped in, this time actually serious.
"Your back."
I groaned.
"…Why is my back the main character today."
He pointed slightly.
"When you're uncomfortable—you pull your shoulders in."
"When you're overwhelmed—you go still."
"When you're trying to hide—you make yourself smaller."
The ghosts nodded.
"All the time."
I frowned.
"…I don't notice that."
"We do," one said.
"It's loud," another added.
I stared at them.
"…My BACK is loud?"
"Yes."
I looked at Niran.
"…You've been analyzing me this whole time?"
He shrugged.
"I had time."
"That's creepy."
"It's accurate."
I exhaled slowly.
"…This is too much."
The tension didn't disappear—
but it shifted.
Less fear.
More…
exposure.
Like they could see things I didn't even realize I was showing.
Then the girl smiled slightly.
"…Still. It's nice."
I narrowed my eyes.
"…Don't."
"Nice back."
"NO—"
The room broke into quiet laughter.
Even Niran.
And somehow—
that was worse.
The moment her fingers wrapped around my wrist—
cold, but somehow… real—
I already knew I was about to regret my life choices.
"Come," she said.
"No."
She pulled anyway.
"HEY—consent??"
"You talk too much."
"I'm literally being dragged by a ghost—of course I—"
I tripped over broken concrete.
"…am going to die again."
"You won't die."
"That's what the last people probably said."
—
They took me deeper into the abandoned building.
It got quieter.
Not scary quiet.
Just…
empty.
Like the place had been forgotten.
The roof was half broken, moonlight spilling in like it owned the place.
"This is where we stay," one of them said.
I looked around.
"…Stay as in… live?"
Niran's voice came from behind me, lazy as always—
"Exist. Try to keep up."
I glanced back at him.
"…You're enjoying this."
"Very."
"Of course you are."
—
They made me sit.
Literally surrounded me.
Like some kind of ghost council meeting.
I looked left.
Right.
Up.
"…If I survive this, I deserve an award."
"You're safe," the girl said.
"You said that earlier. Still not convincing."
She ignored me.
Rude.
—
Then one of them stepped forward.
A boy.
Normal looking… except for the faint crack near his neck.
"I'll go first," he said.
I blinked.
"…Go where?"
"My story."
"Oh."
…Oh.
Right.
Stories.
That's never good.
—
"I was pushed," he said simply.
My heart paused.
Just a little.
"By people I trusted."
He shrugged.
Like it didn't matter.
Like it was nothing.
"…That's it?"
"That's enough."
…I didn't argue.
—
Another girl stepped forward.
She looked normal.
Too normal.
"I got sick," she said.
"No one noticed."
She smiled.
Soft.
Sad.
"I kept saying I was tired."
Her eyes flickered slightly.
"…They said I was being dramatic."
I swallowed.
"…I'm sorry."
She shrugged.
"I am too."
—
Another one.
A taller guy.
"I worked too much."
I blinked.
"…Like… homework?"
He laughed.
"…Like life."
Oh.
"…Oh."
"Collapsed one day. That was it."
He leaned back casually.
"Funny thing is, I thought I had time."
I looked down.
"…Yeah."
—
Then the girl beside me.
The one who dragged me here.
She didn't speak immediately.
Just stared ahead.
"I was blamed," she said finally.
"For something I didn't do."
Her fingers tightened slightly around mine again.
"They didn't listen."
Her voice dropped.
"…No one did."
I frowned.
"…Not even your family?"
She smiled.
Not a happy one.
"You learn quickly who people really are."
That one—
that one hit.
Hard.
—
More of them spoke.
Not long stories.
Just…
pieces.
Short.
Simple.
Heavy.
"I slipped."
"No one helped."
"They laughed."
"I called for help."
"No one came."
Each one—
felt like a weight.
Stacking.
Stacking.
Stacking.
Until—
"…Okay."
My voice came out quieter than I wanted.
"…I get it."
They stopped.
I rubbed my face.
"…I get it, you don't have to keep going."
My chest felt tight.
Too tight.
"…That's enough."
—
"Min-Jun."
Niran's voice.
Closer now.
I looked up.
He was right in front of me.
Watching.
Serious.
Not his usual annoying self.
"Breathe," he said.
"I am breathing."
"You're not."
"I said I am—"
My voice cracked.
…
I shut up.
Looked away.
"…Sorry."
I laughed a little.
Weak.
"…I'm just… not used to this."
One of the ghosts shook their head.
"You're listening."
Another added—
"That's rare."
I swallowed.
"…It's loud."
They all paused.
"…We didn't shout," someone said.
"I know."
I tapped my chest lightly.
"…It's loud here."
—
Silence.
Then—
Niran sighed.
"You've heard enough."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"…Why are you always right."
"I'm not always right."
"You are right now."
"…I hate that."
He smirked slightly.
"There it is."
—
The girl finally let go of my hand.
"…We didn't mean to overwhelm you."
"No, it's okay—just—"
I exhaled slowly.
"…I didn't think it would feel like this."
"What did you think?" someone asked.
I shrugged.
"…I don't know."
"…Scarier?"
"…Less real."
They looked at each other.
Then back at me.
"This is why we stay together," one of them said.
I frowned.
"…Why?"
"So we don't change."
"Change into what?"
They all answered at the same time—
"Something worse."
I froze.
Oh.
"…Right."
Niran crossed his arms beside me.
"We keep each other sane."
"You're sane?" I muttered.
"Barely."
"That makes sense."
—
I looked around again.
At all of them.
Different.
Broken.
But…
together.
"…So this is like…"
I gestured vaguely.
"…ghost group therapy?"
They stared at me.
Niran snorted.
"…That's actually not wrong."
One of them laughed.
"…We prefer 'support system.'"
"Same thing."
—
I leaned back slightly.
Still overwhelmed.
Still processing.
But—
a little less scared.
"…You're all still creepy though."
"Rude," one said.
"Honest," I corrected.
—
Niran glanced at me.
"…You get it now?"
I nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
Then added—
"…doesn't mean I like it."
"You don't have to."
"…Good."
I sighed.
"…Because I really don't."