---

For the next few days, Laž’ar returns to the so-called haunted mansion to visit Çetžak every evening.

When he returns today, there is light shining from a window on the second floor, and he can vaguely make out a silhouette in the window.

He can’t help but smile.

Most of the mansion isn’t in use, but a housekeeper must come a few times a week to keep the place clean. Çetžak’s parents don’t seem to really care, because Laž’ar hasn’t seen even a hint of them.

Having a busy mother who works nights, it’s not like he doesn’t get it can be hard. So, as long as he’s home before something like four in the morning, his mother would never know he wasn’t at home when he was supposed to.

Even if she found out, she wouldn’t really say anything.

He walks through the iron gate with no reservation, but instead of the main entrance, he walks to a side door. It doesn’t have the lavishness of the main entrance. 

Çetžak showed him it’s faster to get to his living “quarter”, as he called it.

Sometimes Çetžak speaks a bit strangely. This occasional odd phrase, or that word Laž’ar has never heard a living person say before but has read once or twice in literary class.

But that’s all right! Laž’ar understands him, and he figures Çetžak’s parents must be pretty rich, so it might be, like, an… upper-upper class thing?

Çetžak doesn’t seem like some rich brat otherwise, so Laž’ar likes him a lot.

“Good evening.”

Laž’ar jumps and looks behind him. Çetžak stands a few steps away from the door. Where did he come from?!

“Hi, hello, good evening!” Only after he finishes speaking does Laž’ar realise he actually whispered from the scare.

“Did I frighten you?”

“You sneak up on me like that, of course, I’d get a little surprised! Don’t just tip-toe over to say hello behind me while we’re in darkness.”

Çetžak smiles softly and closes the distance. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Laž’ar thinks that he should probably feel threatened by Çetžak looming over him like this, yet his far stronger thought is that Çetžak is pretty good-looking.

The moonlight makes his pale skin look almost translucent, and the entire person otherworldly. That’s one-of-a-kind handsomeness you don’t see every day! Laž’ar is certain about this.

“It is almost All Soul’s Day.”

For a moment, Laž’ar can’t keep up. “All souls…? Oh, yes! Halloween! That’s tomorrow!”

“All Soul’s Day is two days after.”

“I see! I didn’t know that. That’s my birthday, by the way!”

“So you were born during Allhallowtide.”

“That seems to be the case?” Laž’ar laughs. “Maybe that means I’d attract ghosts if they were real?”

“Perhaps that could be the case, but who knows?”

“Never mind that. Are you free tomorrow? Ret and Khanuk are coming over for a film marathon.”

“I have no plans.”

“Why don’t you come over?”

Çetžak thinks for a moment, then nods. “If Laž’ar will not be bothered by my presence, please do not mind if I do.”

Laž’ar tsks. “Why would I invite you if I’d get bothered?”

Çetžak raises his hand. It’s cold as it brushes against Laž’ar’s cheek. He pats Laž’ar’s head, stroking his hair in a friendly manner. “Some would be bothered even if they invited me. Especially if they invited me.”

“That’s silly!”

Çetžak retracts his hand and looks toward the gate. “How about we take a walk today?”

Laž’ar nods. His phone shouldn’t shut down at random then.

---

As the sun sinks below the horizon, Çetžak watches Laž’ar open the gate again. He glances back at the mansion.

He hasn’t left the grounds of his home for so very long. He no longer remembers why, but he had no reason to until now. He also doesn’t want to confine Laž’ar to the mansion, so stepping outside makes sense. Besides, if he no longer knew why he ought to remain, why would he remain in the first place?

Laž’ar must notice his pause because they look at him curiously.

“I made sure the lights were off,” he explained. “They are.”

“Oh! That’s good! You use candles a lot, so it could be bad if you left them burning.”

Çetžak smiles as he steps through the gate and enters the light of the outside. The lamps are blinding, and he raises his hand to shield his eyes.

“These are brighter than candles. Must be annoying going outside in the evening and get blinded every time.”

“I mostly stay at home in the evenings.”

Laž’ar hums. “Do you have a curfew?”

Çetžak needs a moment to think. “I do. But there is time left before then. Do you?”

Laž’ar laughs a little. “Technically, I do. But no one’s at home, so I can stay out past then.”

“Why do you live alone?”

Çetžak feels worried. Laž’ar shouldn’t be alone. He deserves people to care for them and serve them like the child of a monarch.

“I don’t. My mother works nights, so she’s not home until early morning. Nothing stranger than that.”

“I see.”

He’s still not at ease. He says nothing about it.

The two of them go down the street, side by side. Whenever dogs or cats notice them, they bark, whine, or hiss.

This confuses Laž’ar. “I wonder what’s wrong with them.”

“Perhaps they have things to say,” he glares at a dog, which backs off with a whine, “but no one to understand them.”

Laž’ar looks at Çetžak. “Do you have something to say?”

He can’t bear it when Laž’ar looks so genuinely concerned. “I have many things to say, but few are important.”

“Everything you want to say is important. Even if it isn’t to anyone else, it is to me.”

There’s a mischievous look in Laž’ar’s eyes, and he speaks in a flippant manner, but Çetžak can only see the corners of Laž’ar’s mouth moving up without true teasing.

He averts his eyes, tacitly accepting Laž’ar’s words.

---

Not too far from the mansion, there’s a park. Because Çetžak told Laž’ar to pick their destination, this is where they go.

He thought of something else first, but the dogs barking at them changed his mind. If they had to deal with animals like that, finding a more secluded location would be better.

The light of the park is dim and spooky, without many lamp posts. He believes Çetžak would enjoy this better as he keeps the lights at the mansion dim. Sometimes it’s like the candles are exhausted and wish for a holiday.

So perhaps Çetžak prefers somewhere without the city street lights.

Çetžak looks around. “Is this park new?”

Laž’ar laughs. “If you consider twenty, thirty years new?”

“So not quite, then?”

“No.” Laž’ar’s confused. “Haven’t you been here before?”

“I have not explored the area around the mansion. I can get everything I need there.”

“You should go out more.”

Çetžak looks at Laž’ar with a soft — almost fond — expression. “I will go anywhere you bring me.”

This tickles Laž’ar’s mischievous heart. He needs to tease him.

As he smiles, his eyes turn crescent, his impishness on full display.

“What if I bring you to hell?”

“I would gladly go with you, nonetheless.”

Laž’ar doesn’t expect this response, and he is stunned into silence.

After an awkward silence, he asks tentatively, “What about heaven?”

Çetžak pauses, visibly troubled. “If heaven does not let me in, then I will still follow you, even if it is by force.”

Laž’ar feels there’s something very off with that statement, but he can’t say what part doesn’t feel strange to hear, so he can’t tell what’s wrong.

Perhaps it’s nothing.

They fall into silence after this, mindlessly walking. It’s decorated by the people living nearby. There are a few pumpkins here, some skulls there. Spiders and webs hang off leafless branches, and someone had hung a skeleton up in one. It almost looks like it hung itself.

Laž’ar is startled when he sees this. The skeleton wears clothes, so at first glance, it doesn’t look like another decoration. But when looking closer at it, and daring to touch it, it’s really just plastic.

It’s then he realises Çetžak’s looking at it intensely. Not with fear but something else.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t concern Laž’ar.

They walk for a little over an hour, and they exit at the other end of the park.

Laž’ar sees the flickering light of a vending machine which sells drinks and snacks.

“Wait here!”

He goes over to it, and after thinking for a while, he buys a couple of drinks. Bottles in hand, he returns to Çetžak, who studies him as if he’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

Perhaps he’d been too cooped up, and right now someone friendly who doesn’t think his house is haunted is the most fascinating — what does Laž’ar know?

He motions toward a bench. “How about we go sit there for a while?”

“It is cold. Sitting may not be suitable.”

Laž’ar considers this. “There’s a bridge over the pond. Wanna go there then?”

“If you wish to go there, then I will gladly follow.”

Laž’ar shakes his head with a silent laugh, then walks back to the small bridge together with Çetžak.

He holds up the bottles while leaning against the railing.

“Which one would you want?”

Çetžak studies them both, then points. “This one.”

Laž’ar hands the pumpkin tea-flavoured drink to him, but Çetžak doesn’t take it. After an awkward moment, he places it on the railing next to Çetžak. He now holds a blood-red raspberry-strawberry drink.

He opens it and takes a taste.

Not bad.

He drinks a third of it right away.

It’s strange, but he started feeling incredibly thirsty ever since they left the mansion. Maybe he didn’t drink enough while at home? That must be it.

Feeling better, he asks, “So what do you usually do?”

“Read. Play chess with myself.”

“Oh, so that chess game is yours?”

Çetžak nods. “I rarely have an opponent, so I have grown accustomed to playing by myself. Some of the games take months because I wait between each move.”

“Teach me some time. I won’t be great, but it should be better than playing by yourself, right?”

Çetžak smiles again. Moonlight hits him, illuminating him in a way that makes it look like he might disperse into smoke.

Well, that’s a ridiculous thought.

“If you desire to indulge me in such a way, then I can only humbly accept you as my student.”

“This student humbly requests my teacher not to be too harsh on me. I’m not a strategist.”

“I would never be harsh on you, Laž’ar.” 

Laž’ar empties the bottle and drops it into the bin near the bridge.

“I like spending time with you, you know—” 

He turns back to Çetžak who still stands on the bridge. Perhaps it’s a bit foggy and perhaps Laž’ar’s tired, because Çetžak really does look hazy to him.

He approaches him as he speaks. “It’s getting a little late. I should go home.”

Çetžak nods. “That sounds good. I will walk you to where we need to part.”

Laž’ar notices Çetžak hasn’t touched the drink. No matter. He bought it without considering what Çetžak might like. He takes the bottle, receiving an apologetic smile from Çetžak in return.

“All right.” Laž’ar smiles. “Let’s go.”

---

They’re not far from the mansion, but the route back is a little longer. Çetžak follows Laž’ar anywhere he goes — until they stop.

“My bus stop’s over there,” they point forward, “the mansion’s that way.” They point to the right now.

Çetžak nods.

“So we’ll have to split here, but we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

He doesn’t want to leave Laž’ar. Not now. Not anytime.

Why should he go back? What’s there to see, when Laž’ar gives him so much more, even during brief moments?

Çetžak nods once more. “Of course.”

Laž’ar smiles brightly. “And on my birthday!”

Çetžak nods yet again. “Naturally.”

“Great! I’ll see you then. Bye!”

Çetžak watches Laž’ar as they wave to him, then turn. They hurry away, not turning again.

Çetžak doesn’t look away once.

He doesn’t want Laž’ar to leave.

Çetžak doesn’t want to leave Laž’ar.

He doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t.