Ethan woke with a start, heart pounding as sunlight slipped through the cracked windowpane. For a moment, his mind was a blur of half-remembered dreams and the weight of uneasy sleep. Then he turned his head—and froze.
Someone was lying beside him.
His breath hitched. The shape, the hair, even the way she slept—it was Kaori.
A strangled noise escaped him as he jerked upright, clutching at the blanket like it could protect him from whatever horror he'd just woken to. But when his frantic eyes darted to the couch across the room, there she was—the real Kaori—curled up and sleeping peacefully beneath a thin blanket.
Ethan exhaled shakily, running a hand down his face.
"Okay," he muttered to himself, voice still hoarse, "either I'm still dreaming, or I'm being haunted by a ghost with a really bad sense of humor."
Kaori stirred at the sound of his voice, opening one sleepy eye.
"You screamed," she mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her face.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Ethan said, still glancing warily at the now-empty spot beside him. "Thought you were right here next to me… and then realized you weren't."
Kaori raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Trying to steal my virginity in your sleep, huh?"
Ethan blinked, then let out a nervous laugh. "Wow, bold accusation for someone who still drools in her sleep. Besides, ghosts don't sign consent forms."
Kaori chuckled—a genuine laugh that broke through the grim weight that had followed them for days. "You're impossible, Ethan."
He grinned. "I've been told worse."
Breakfast was quiet but peaceful. Ethan fiddled with a temperamental toaster while Kaori sipped stale coffee scavenged from their dwindling supplies. The smell of burnt toast filled the small kitchen, somehow grounding them in a strange kind of normality.
By the time they'd eaten, the tension from the morning had settled into something almost light. They packed their bags and stepped outside for the shopping trip they'd planned—a day to restock and, hopefully, forget the ghosts that lurked behind every closed door in Nolite.
The town was bathed in a soft, golden glow. Dust motes floated lazily through the air, catching the sunlight that filtered between the half-collapsed buildings. Faded neon signs hung limply above shuttered storefronts. Somewhere, a bell tolled the hour, the sound echoing through the still streets.
Kaori glanced around as they walked. "I never thought shopping in a haunted town could feel so… normal."
Ethan snorted. "Welcome to Nolite. Where the ghosts are less scary than the prices."
Their first stop was a cramped thrift shop squeezed between two abandoned houses. The air inside smelled faintly of cedar and time. Every corner was packed with forgotten furniture, chipped china, and racks of clothes that looked like they belonged in another century.
A bell jingled above the door as they entered. The shopkeeper—a frail old man with eyes sharp as polished obsidian—nodded silently, then returned to rearranging a stack of old books.
Kaori brushed her fingers along a rack of leather jackets, their surfaces cracked and worn smooth. "See anything you like?"
Ethan looked around at the mix of antiques and apocalypse décor. "Besides the haunted doll in the corner? Not really."
After an hour of rummaging, they left with a few essentials: a pair of gloves, a wool blanket, and a battered lantern that somehow still worked. Small victories.
Next came the farmers' market near the square—a surprisingly lively pocket of life amid decay. Stalls overflowed with vegetables, homemade pastries, and carved trinkets. The air was alive with the scents of baked bread, herbs, and the faint tang of rain.
Kaori bit into a crimson apple, crunch echoing in the quiet square. "Didn't take you for a market guy."
Ethan shrugged, trying to hide a grin. "Desperate times, desperate shopping."
They filled their basket with bread, vegetables, and a curious jar of honey that shimmered strangely in the sunlight. Kaori tilted it, frowning. "You sure this isn't cursed?"
"If it is," Ethan said, pocketing it with a smirk, "I'll haunt you when it kills me."
By afternoon, they wandered into a narrow café tucked beneath a leaning building. Its paint peeled in long strips, and the sign above the door swayed dangerously in the wind. Inside, the air smelled of dust, coffee, and quiet nostalgia.
They found a booth in the corner. The seats creaked under their weight, but the warmth of the place wrapped around them like a soft blanket.
Kaori sipped her tea, gaze distant. "This place feels… weirdly comforting."
Ethan leaned back, watching the light flicker across her face. "Yeah. Like a skeleton wearing a cozy sweater."
She laughed, and the sound filled the room more brightly than the fading daylight outside. For a little while, they forgot the empty streets, the whispers that followed them, the ghosts that hid behind closed doors. They were just two people in a café, sharing jokes and stories, pretending the world wasn't falling apart.
Evening found them wandering again—through a dusty bookshop where the air smelled of parchment and rain, through a music store with warped vinyls and forgotten tunes, and finally to a park where autumn leaves drifted in slow spirals to the cracked pavement.
The sun slipped behind the rooftops, painting Nolite in shades of amber and violet. The world grew quiet, the way only dying towns could.
Ethan looked at Kaori, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. "Same time next weekend?"
Kaori grinned back. "Yeah. And maybe next time, I'll actually try to steal your virginity. No ghosts allowed."
Ethan barked out a laugh that echoed down the empty street. For the first time in a long while, the sound didn't feel hollow.
For the first time, it felt like hope.