The telephone sat on a small pillar near the wall.
Of course it did.
Rich house things.
I walked over—still limping like my spine had filed a complaint—and picked up the paper.
A number.
Messy handwriting.
Ara.
I dialed.
Ring.
Ring.
Click.
"Hello?"
I straightened a little, fingers tightening around the receiver.
"…Hello."
Behind me—
"Who is it?" Niran's voice drifted in.
"I'm trying to find out," I muttered, eyes narrowing slightly.
Then—
He leaned in.
Too close.
Again.
Like personal space was a suggestion he actively rejected.
His presence pressed against my side—
Warm.
Which made no sense.
He's a ghost.
Why is he warm.
Our shoulders nearly brushed.
I stilled.
"…Back up," I whispered.
"No."
Of course.
Then the voice came again—
"Min-Jun?"
I froze.
Seo-Yeon.
Of course it's Seo-Yeon.
Perfect.
Niran leaned even closer.
Our cheeks almost touched.
I could feel him.
This is not normal.
"…Yes," I said carefully, forcing my voice steady.
Her tone was tight. Urgent.
"I need to see you."
I blinked once.
"…Why?"
"I have to tell you something," she said quickly. "It's… strange."
My eyes flicked sideways.
Niran.
Watching.
Interested.
Too interested.
"What kind of strange?" I asked.
She hesitated.
Then—
"…Things are moving."
A pause.
"Plates. Objects. It feels like… someone is there."
I went still.
Slowly turned my head—
Niran.
Right there.
Too close.
Watching me.
A small smile tugging at his lips like this was entertainment.
I whispered, barely moving my mouth—
"What did you do?"
He blinked.
"I didn't do anything."
"Then what is she talking about?"
He shrugged.
Useless.
Completely useless.
"Min-Jun?" Seo-Yeon called.
I snapped back.
"Yes—yes, I'm here."
"I need to see you," she said. "Please."
"…Now?"
"Yes. Now."
Of course.
I closed my eyes briefly.
Weekend.
My plans.
Destroyed.
"I'm… sick," I said weakly.
Niran slowly turned his head toward me.
Judgment.
Pure judgment.
"I fell," I added quickly. "My back—"
"Min-Jun, please," she cut in, softer now. "I'm really scared."
…Great.
Guilt.
My only weakness.
I exhaled.
"…Fine."
Niran grinned instantly.
Of course he did.
"I'll come," I said.
"Thank you," she breathed.
Click.
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly.
Silence stretched.
Then—
I turned to Niran.
"If this is your fault—"
"It's not."
"You're smiling."
"I always smile."
"That's worse."
He tilted his head, hair shifting slightly, amused.
"Get ready," he said. "We're going ghost hunting."
I stared at him.
"...I hate my life."
He smirked.
—
We went to the café Seo-Yeon recommended.
Of course we did.
Because my life?
Not mine anymore.
My back still hurt—less sharp now, but present enough to remind me I got physically assaulted by a ghost.
Amazing.
I wore a coat.
Cold air slipped under it anyway.
My nose was pink.
My dignity?
Gone.
"Why do you look like a sick Victorian child?" Niran asked, hovering lazily beside me.
"I am sick," I muttered. "Emotionally."
"Tragic."
I ignored him.
Then I saw her.
Seo-Yeon.
By the window.
Waving.
Calm.
Too calm.
Like she didn't just call me about ghost activity.
I walked over and sat across from her.
Niran hovered.
Uninvited.
Always.
"Thanks for coming," she said softly.
"Yeah," I replied, brushing my hair back absently. "I was… dying to leave my house."
Niran snorted behind me.
She didn't hear.
She leaned forward slightly.
"I've been experiencing things," she said.
"Like?"
"Things moving. Plates. Objects."
My eyes slid sideways.
Niran raised both hands.
"I said I didn't do anything."
Sure.
Seo-Yeon continued—
"I think…" she hesitated, lowering her voice, "I think Niran is haunting me."
I blinked.
"...Why?"
She looked down.
Perfect timing.
Perfect expression.
"Because I hurt him," she said. "I was his ex. I… didn't treat him well."
I stared at her.
Carefully.
"…I caught you smiling."
She froze—
Just a flicker.
Then softened again.
"I'm nervous," she said.
Sure.
"I still don't know why I got involved in this," I muttered.
"Because you're kind," she said quickly.
Behind me—
Niran gagged.
Loudly.
"Disgusting," he whispered.
Seo-Yeon leaned closer.
"On the day he died… I was there."
That—
Made Niran move.
He drifted closer.
No smirk now.
No teasing.
Just still.
Listening.
"I was on the rooftop," she continued. "I saw everything."
My fingers tightened slightly against the table.
"…Everything?"
"Yes."
Her eyes flickered again.
"I saw him fall."
Niran's jaw tightened.
Sharp.
Controlled.
"I saw… blood," she added quietly. "I was the one who called the police."
Silence.
Cold.
Something didn't sit right.
Niran said he was pushed.
She said she saw it.
But—
She didn't say who.
Convenient.
Too convenient.
Then—
Suddenly—
She reached across the table.
Grabbed my hand.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
"Please," she said. "Let me stay at your place tonight."
I blinked.
"...What?"
"I don't feel safe," she added quickly. "Please."
I slowly pulled my hand back, placing it in my lap.
"I… don't even know you like that," I said carefully. "And my house isn't just mine—there are people and—"
"Just say it's a sleepover," she said, smiling too easily.
Behind me—
Niran's voice.
Lower now.
Serious.
If you can hear me, don't let her stay. I sense something.
I paused.
Thinking.
If I let her stay…
We might find something.
Something real.
Something about his death.
Silence.
Then—
I smiled.
Wide.
Too nice.
"Tomorrow," I said. "You can come tomorrow."
She blinked—then smiled.
"Really?"
"I just need to tell my mom," I added. "She's been wondering why I never bring friends home."
Unfortunately true.
Seo-Yeon stood.
"So we're friends now, right?"
I hesitated—
Just a second.
"...Yeah."
She smiled.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Then she left.
Just like that.
Silence dropped.
Then—
Niran slid into her chair.
Like he owned it.
Like rent was optional.
He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
"...Okay. Sir."
I looked at him.
"Tell me what that was."
He leaned back, arms crossed, one leg hooking over the other.
No manners.
None.
I exhaled.
"If I let her stay, I might find something," I said. "Something about your death. One wish down."
He stared at me.
Then slowly dropped his forehead onto the table.
A dull thud.
"Do whatever you want, Missy."
I rolled my eyes.
Right on cue—
A waiter approached.
Careful. Hesitant.
"Um… sir?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Customers are… uncomfortable," he said politely. "You've been talking to yourself."
I paused.
"...Right."
I stood immediately.
"Sorry."
Behind me—
Niran leaned in, voice low.
"Embarrassing."
I ignored him and walked out.
He followed.
Floating.
Obviously.
—
Outside—
Cold air hit my face.
Sharp.
I exhaled slowly.
"...From now on," I said, "I'm calling you Nina."
He stopped.
Mid-air.
"...What?"
"Nina."
"That's a girl's name."
I shrugged, hands in my coat pockets.
"So?"
"That's so girly."
I glanced at him.
Once.
Flat.
"Says the boy covered in red."
He blinked.
Offended.
Deeply.
"I'm dead," he said. "Have some respect for the dead."
I kept walking.
"Nina."
"I hate you."
"Nina."
His jaw tightened.
"...Stop."
"Nina."
He groaned.
And followed anyway.