The day I opened my second eye, I thought I'd just start seeing ghosts.
I did not expect one of them to stick to me like glue.
Worse… this one talks.
And even worse… only I can hear him.
It started in math class.
Which was already a bad sign.
"Ren, solve number 5."
I looked at the board.
Number 5 looked back at me.
We had no relationship.
"I… don't understand the question."
"You don't understand or you didn't study?"
"…both."
The class laughed.
I was about to embarrass myself properly when something cold touched my neck.
I froze.
Not in a dramatic way.
In a "my soul just paused the game" way.
I slowly turned my head.
Nothing.
Okay. Good. Normal.
"Ren?"
"Yes sir."
"Face the board."
I turned back.
And that's when everything went wrong.
For a second, my vision flickered.
Like bad internet.
Then suddenly—
The classroom wasn't empty anymore.
There were things everywhere.
Something was sitting on the fan.
Something was crouching by the window.
Something was literally sitting on someone's desk like it owned the place.
My brain stopped working.
I blinked.
They were still there.
I blinked again.
Still there.
No loading screen. No error message. Just… horror.
Then something beside me spoke.
"Oh. You can see us now."
I screamed.
"AHHH—!"
Everyone turned to look at me.
My teacher looked tired already.
"Ren."
I pointed at the empty chair next to me.
"There's something sitting there!"
Everyone looked.
There was nothing.
"…Get out," my teacher said.
"Gladly."
—
The hallway was worse.
Way worse.
They were everywhere.
Just walking around like it was a normal Tuesday.
Something waved at me.
I ignored it.
Something crawled past the wall.
I ignored that too.
I had a plan.
If I don't react, they'll leave me alone.
Simple.
Effective.
Genius.
"Why are you ignoring me?"
I stopped walking.
That voice was different.
Clear.
Too clear.
I slowly turned my head.
And saw him.
He looked… normal.
Which was suspicious.
Black hair, red eyes, calm face like he wasn't part of the problem.
He looked at me like he had been waiting.
"You can see me," he said.
"No."
"You just looked at me."
"I was looking at the wall."
"You made eye contact."
"I make eye contact with walls sometimes."
"…You're strange."
"You're literally not alive."
"I am."
"No, you're not."
"I am."
"You're not."
We stared at each other.
This was already exhausting.
"Go away," I said.
"No."
"Please go away."
"No."
"…I don't like you."
"That's fine."
"You should leave."
"I won't."
"Why?"
He stepped closer.
"I like you."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
"You just met me."
"That's enough."
"That's not how that works."
"It works for me."
"…You're a problem."
"I know."
—
I went back to class.
Mistake.
The moment I sat down, I could feel him behind me.
Not near me.
Behind me.
Like breathing-down-my-neck behind me.
"Can you stop that?" I whispered.
"Stop what?"
"Standing like that."
"I am not standing."
"…floating then. Stop floating."
"No."
I covered my face.
"This is not happening."
"It is."
"I refuse."
"You cannot refuse reality."
"You are not reality."
"I am now."
"…that sounds illegal."
"Do you want me to leave?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Then why ask??"
"I was being polite."
"You're not polite!"
"I am trying."
"Try harder!"
A classmate turned around.
"Who are you talking to?"
"No one."
"You're whispering."
"I like talking to myself."
"…okay."
He turned back.
I wanted to disappear.
"Your friend is suspicious," the thing said.
"He's not my friend."
"He looked at you too long."
"He asked one question!"
"I don't like him."
"You don't even know him!"
"I don't need to."
"…Why are you jealous??"
"I am not jealous."
"You sound jealous."
"I am observant."
"You sound insane."
"You are talking to me in class."
"…fair."
—
After school, I ran home.
He followed.
Of course he did.
"Stop following me."
"I am not following you."
"You are walking behind me."
"I am going in the same direction."
"You didn't exist ten minutes ago!"
"That is not my fault."
"It is completely your fault!"
He walked beside me now.
Too close.
Always too close.
"Do you always talk this much?" I asked.
"Only to you."
"Lucky me."
"I think so."
"I don't."
"You will."
"Stop saying that."
"No."
"…you're annoying."
"You noticed."
—
I reached my house.
Finally.
Safety.
Peace.
No ghosts.
I opened the door and walked in.
Closed it.
Locked it.
Turned around.
He was inside.
I stared at him.
"…how."
"You let me in."
"I opened the door for myself!"
"That counts."
"It does not count!"
"It does."
"I am going to cry."
"That won't help."
"I'm already crying inside."
"I can tell."
"Get out."
"No."
"Get out of my house."
"No."
"Why??"
He looked around.
"This place is small."
"Get out!"
"There is a sock on the table."
"That's not important!"
"It is concerning."
"YOU are concerning!"
He walked closer again.
Of course he did.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"I told you."
"No, you didn't."
"I like you."
"That is not a reason to enter someone's house!"
"It is for me."
"…you're crazy."
"You see me. You're crazier."
"…wow."
"You accepted me first."
"I did not accept you!"
"You didn't run."
"I screamed in class!"
"But you stayed."
"…I had attendance."
He smiled.
Again.
I didn't like that smile.
It looked like he knew something I didn't.
"You'll get used to me," he said.
"No, I won't."
"You will."
"I won't."
"You will."
"I won't."
"We'll see."
"…stop saying that!"
He stepped closer.
Close enough that I could feel that cold feeling again.
"You don't remember, do you?" he asked.
I frowned.
"Remember what?"
He paused.
Then smiled slightly.
"Nothing."
"That's suspicious."
"You'll remember later."
"That sounds like a threat."
"It's not."
"It really sounds like one."
He leaned in a bit.
"Relax."
"I am not relaxed!"
"You will be."
"I will not be!"
"You're already calmer."
"I'm not calmer, I'm tired!"
"That's close enough."
"…I hate this."
"You don't."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I DO."
He looked at me like he was waiting.
Like he had all the time in the world.
Which was also concerning.
I sighed.
Deeply.
"…you're not leaving, are you?"
"No."
"…even if I beg?"
"No."
"…even if I cry?"
"No."
"…even if I die?"
He paused.
Then his expression changed slightly.
Colder.
"You won't."
"…that was creepy."
"I meant it."
"…okay, that was worse."
I dropped my bag and sat down.
I was done.
Completely done.
"This is my life now," I muttered.
"Yes."
"I hate it."
"You'll like it."
"I won't."
"You will."
"STOP."
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
That was new.
And somehow worse.
I looked at him again.
At the red eyes.
At the calm face.
At the thing that refused to leave.
"…what are you?"
He tilted his head.
Then said simply—
"Yours."
I stared at him.
"…no."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No!"
"Yes."
I covered my face.
"I'm finished."
"You just started."
"…that's not comforting."
"I wasn't trying to comfort you."
"I can tell."
He sat beside me.
Like it was normal.
Like he belonged there.
Like he had always been there.
And somehow…
That bothered me more than everything else.
—
I didn't just start seeing things today.
I didn't just lose my normal life.
I gained something worse.
Something that talks.
Something that won't leave.
Something that looks at me like I'm important.
And I have a feeling…
This thing?
Is going to ruin my life.