---

He doesn’t know why they came or how they entered, but a group of children — Can he call them children? They don’t look any younger than he does. — a group of children has seemingly decided to visit him.

It’s been a while since he met outsiders, so, feeling a little awkward, he stays on the upper floor, observing them as they walk into the mansion.

There are three of them. The oldest one is leading them. It doesn’t matter if it’s because of his hair or a certain twinkle in the oldest’s eyes he catches, but he finds him frivolous.

The other two walk behind him.

One of them is restlessly tapping his folding fan against his palm. He’s frowning, like they had dragged him along against his will. They probably had.

The last one holds onto their friend. Whenever each of their friends turns to them, they put on a pitiful expression, but they look around in curiosity when they think no one else is watching.

But he sees it all from where he’s standing on the balcony, shrouded in darkness.

---

A few hours earlier at Zuladiar High School.

When Retnüir leaves the classroom, his eye twitches. Never mind that the lazy kid Laž’ar is sitting on that bench opposite Retnüir’s locker, Khanuk is as well. Khanuk, who graduated from the school when Laž’ar was still in middle school.

Khanuk is smiling as he talks with an arm on the back of the bench, half turned to Laž’ar. He doesn’t seem to care that Laž’ar is leaning slightly away and making himself smaller.

Retnüir walks over to them and lets his textbook fall heavily on Khanuk’s hand, startling Laž’ar into jumping off the bench.

“Retnüir!” Khanuk laughs. “Why so mad? Not enough coffee?”

“How old are you even?” Retnüir sneers back.

“I was telling li’l Laž here about something — are you in?”

Retnüir sweeps his gaze from Khanuk sitting in front of him to Laž’ar now standing next to him. The previously scared kid has a twinkle of excitement in his eyes, and Retnüir gives up on these two the moment Laž’ar opens his mouth.

“Ret, it’ll be fun!”

“I don’t care how much fun it might be. Go back to class, Laž’ar.”

“Reeeeettt!” Laž’ar whines, tugging at Retnüir’s sleeve. “Please!”

Retnüir sighs and knocks Laž’ar on the forehead with a knuckle. Even though he knows it didn’t actually hurt, Laž’ar’s hand shoots to his forehead while he frowns.

“We can do it after our classes.” Retnüir turns to Khanuk. “Right?”

“Wouldn’t even try to get our Retty to miss class. Evening is the best time for it, anyway.”

“Well, you should also go to class, O Greatest Khanuk. I know you’ve got a lecture, not time hanging around us half-adults.”

Khanuk laughs. “You’re gonna love this, Retnüir!”

---

After they all finish for the day, Khanuk brings the other two teens along with him to the bus. They board it.

When arriving at the stop, Laž’ar grabs hold of Retnüir’s sleeve as they leave the bus stop. There aren’t all that many street lights here, and one of them flickers while giving off a click and a buzz every time it goes on or off.

It reminds him of horror flicks.

If Laž’ar didn’t think this would be too fun to pass up, he would have gone home already, because, although Retnüir only ever chides him, he could get vicious while scolding Khanuk, and that was not fun.

And Retnüir’s already losing his patience with Khanuk’s antics.

“Here we are!”

Khanuk announces their arrival out of nowhere, standing between two dead streetlights. Laž’ar needs to squint because it’s so dark that Khanuk half-melts into the shadows.

It takes him a moment to realise Khanuk stands in front of a gate and, behind it, a large mansion. Naked branches rise above the hedge, which is taller than a full-grown man. He assumes the leaves are scattered in an overgrown garden.

He hums softly in curiosity.

Khanuk had told him they would go somewhere spooky, a place that locals felt might be haunted, and there had been more than one sighting. Apparently, Retnüir claims not to be afraid of ghosts, and Laž’ar had thus timidly said he found ghosts “super exciting”.

Truth be told, he doesn’t even believe they exist.

This is just an old mansion. What ghosts could there be other than rats and some stray cats?

However, he has never been in a mansion before and definitely not an old one, so — ghosts or no ghosts — he’s going to see if he could explore a little.

Khanuk waves to Laž’ar, who lets go of Retnüir and runs up to the iron gate.

“Khanuk, are there really ghosts here? I want to see them!”

“You bet there are at least two or three!”

A tsk comes from behind Laž’ar. He turns to see Retnüir already holding the fan that he always carries with him. It’s a sign he’s enduring his lost patience. Each tap’s like the ticking of a bomb unless Retnüir finds a proper outlet for his irritation.

Laž’ar hurries over to him and pulls at his sleeve, purposely looking as pitiful as he can. “Ret, you’re not coming?” He tugs the sleeve a couple of times while pouting.

He knows it’s childish, but…

“Fine, I’m coming,” Retnüir sighs.

Mission accomplished.

Laž’ar knew this would convince Retnüir. Tried and tested on this big brother.

“Li’l Laž,” Khanuk says, “check if you can open the gate?”

Laž’ar nods enthusiastically and runs back to check out the iron gate.

“It better open. I’m not breaking and entering anywhere. Got that, Khanuk?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No breaking and entering.”

Laž’ar taps the heavy padlock. “I don’t know lockpicking.”

Khanuk turns around, then gets his phone out of his pocket, using the flash as a torch. “Look at that. I guess we’re not breaking and entering then.”

Laž’ar takes hold of the lock, feeling very disappointed.

Maybe the lock is too rusty because the moment Laž’ar lets go…

CLANG!

…the lock drops to the sidewalk, clearly not useful in keeping them out anymore.

All three of them startle at this sound. Laž’ar actually backs up so much that he can hide behind Retnüir.

Khanuk laughs at him. “Are you a cat?”

“I’m not.” Laž’ar’s voice quivers slightly.

“We can leave, if you’re afraid,” Retnüir consoles him.

Laž’ar peeks up at the other teen’s face and sees a slightly tense expression. He holds the folding fan so tight that it lets out a small “crack”.

Well, then.

“Ret, you’re so mean. I’m, I’m not scared! Are you s-s-scared, Ret?”

Retnüir’s hand tightens around his fan. “I’m not. Let’s get this stupid thing over with.”

---

A loud crash wakes him up, and Çetžak sits up in his bed with a start.

With silent steps, he leaves his bedroom and walks to a window that oversees the front yard. There seem to be some people outside the property. Well, it doesn’t concern him. They can’t get inside, anyway.

Awake now, Çetžak moves over to the study to continue a game of chess against himself. He thinks about his next move for a little while.

He picks up a piece.

Knock, knock.

He startles at the sound and drops the piece with a clatter.

Branches may occasionally knock and scrape on the windows, and this he’s so very used to. It lulls him to sleep and wakes him up later in a cycle as days pass. Weeks. Months. Years.

Knock, knock, knock!

But this is different. He hasn’t had many guests lately, and he also doesn’t invite anyone, but he wouldn’t mistake this sound.

When he reaches the window, he can see the gate to the property is open. Not all that much, but enough for him to see it with the dim light of the outside.

How did that happen?

The paved path up to the building has been slightly disturbed.

There are some muffled voices, but, as the visitors are standing under the eaves below, he can’t see them. It may have been difficult to see them even if there had been nothing to shield them, because this far in, the light is nothing to speak of.

A gust of wind covers up the tracks, making it seem like no one passed through, while the hinges of the door downstairs whine as the door itself creaks.

He turns away from the window and the desolate garden outside. He listens to hesitant footsteps echo while he walks to the balcony on the second floor, studying the curious outsiders below.