---

Laž’ar isn’t affected by horror. He’ll jump when there are jump scares, but other than some thrill, he doesn’t feel much.

This year, the films aren’t as mild as the previous ones, and he glances at Retnüir.

Sure enough, his chosen big brother has at some point got his hands on a cushion and now hides behind it, jumping at any sudden noises.

It seems Retnüir’s truly scared of ghosts.

Well, if Retnüir refuses to admit it and continues to push his own luck, what is Laž’ar supposed to do about it? He’s not going to pretend he can’t handle horror. Getting Retnüir to admit it seems like a fun endeavour anyway.

He grabs another slice of pizza. There are also some dishes his mother made before she had to head to work. It should have been enough for more than four people, but Laž’ar doesn’t seem to be able to satisfy his hunger. His friends don’t seem to have noted anything odd, so perhaps he’s overthinking it and just ate poorly earlier. It’s made him so hungry that his appetite is even unaffected by the bloody scenes.

That’s probably it.

A chill seems to run down his spine. He instinctively turns to look at Çetžak. He’s looking at him, the light of the TV casting shadows that make him look inhuman, especially when a red light hits, giving his otherwise black eyes a red, almost demonic tint while his skin somehow looks even paler than usual.

It’s captivating. More so than the films themselves. He wants to reach up to see if this demonic view is real. It’s a silly thought.

“Do you want some?” Laž’ar asks and raises his hand with the slices.

Before Çetžak can answer, a screech from the TV startles Laž’ar. He jumps and nearly drops his food.

He hears a low chuckle, and the chill of Çetžak’s arm envelops him in a reassuring manner.

“Did that frighten you?”

Laž’ar side-eyes him. Çetžak’s constitution must be especially strong because he has shown no signs of getting startled even once. “No,” he tells him.

---

It’s becoming quite late at night.

Çetžak can see the other three yawn from time to time, and especially Laž’ar does it frequently.

“Will you be able to sleep like this?” he asks them. “Or does this scare you too much?”

Hearing the question, Laž’ar’s eyes narrow into crescents, a smile tugging at their lips as they look at Çetžak. Their expression is full of mischievous intent. It’s the most adorable thing Çetžak has seen. He wants to protect it. Obtain it.

“What if I say I did get scared?” Laž’ar asks softly.

Çetžak freezes, then lowers his head. He focuses on how Laž’ar’s body radiates heat. It’s so comfortable. It has been very long since he could regularly feel any warmth at all. He whispers, “I shall protect you from everything that scares you.”

Laž’ar hums. “And if you scare me, what would you do?”

“What would you want me to do?”

“Nothing in particular,” Laž’ar tells him. “Everyone can be frightening at times. It’s about why you scared me, not that you did.”

“Have I ever frightened you?”

Çetžak can hear Laž’ar’s smile in his reply. “Never.”

All is well, then.

He glances toward Khanuk, who’s giving him a cautious look. It’s no matter that he overheard them, Çetžak determines.

---

Laž’ar unexpectedly wakes up around six in the morning. He rubs his eyes and looks around, feeling a bit disoriented and very confused.

Retnüir is still hugging a cushion, a frown on his face. He is likely having a nightmare. Khanuk looks completely knocked out, drooling on the armrest he’s leaning his head against.

He gets up. He’s uncertain when he fell asleep, and he’s hazy about what happened before he fell asleep, but he can accept this. It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep to the genre. Besides, it was a good sleep, despite waking up on the couch, squeezed into it together with Khanuk.

As he’s technically the host, he boils water to make coffee for his friends after a change of clothes.

Khanuk’s, oddly enough, the first one to wake up from the scent of coffee. He comes into the kitchen while stretching. Laž’ar stops taking out ingredients for breakfast to greet him.

“Where’s your friend?”

“He probably went home? He said he could only stay during the evening and still stayed until past midnight, at least. Most likely to something like 2 in the morning. Perhaps he needed to go to school.”

“Laž’ar, that friend… Something’s off about him.”

“He speaks a bit strangely, but that’s it, isn’t it?”

“His clothes didn’t seem that modern.”

“Maybe he likes the look? Besides, he didn’t wear anything that would actually be out of fashion.”

Khanuk fell quiet, then took some bread slices to put in the toaster. Laž’ar studies him apprehensively.

Why would they be so hostile against Çetžak? He’s such a nice guy. A true gentleman, really. Nothing on this planet could change that impression, Laž’ar’s sure.

“When and how did you meet him?”

“Just a while ago. He lives…” Laž’ar hesitates, but likely not long enough for Khanuk to notice, “…in the area of the haunted mansion.”

“That so?”

“Yeah?”

“We only went there like a week ago. How close can you even get in this short time?”

“Khanuk, come on, man! Some people you just click with!”

“And some friends you don’t make. There’s really something off about him.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can choose my own friends! Man, you two really ruin the fun, don’t you? First Ret and now you!”

“I’ve had my share of bad friends, Laž’ar. I know when I see someone bad, all right?”

Laž’ar can’t help but feel upset. “I hope you also see the door because I don’t want to see you!”

The lights in the kitchen flicker before the entire apartment is shrouded in darkness. For a moment, Laž’ar stares at Khanuk. He’s about to ask what’s going on when the lights outside go out as well.

Laž’ar gazes as the entire area becomes black, and he can only see the lights further away within the city from the window.

“What, the power went out?” they hear Retnüir ask incredulously from the living room.

“Uh, yeah, seems like it.” Khanuk’s voice sounds a little strained.

Laž’ar laughs. “What a coincidence! I said I didn’t want to see you, and now I can’t.”

That is too funny to him.

Khanuk laughs with him, but it sounds nervous. “That’s a coincidence, all right.”

“Did you watch too many ghost stories? There’s nothing odd about a power outage. Wait a bit — I’ll get some light for you guys.”

Laž’ar touches the counter to find a cabinet where they keep candles. He puts one in a holder and lights it up. He places some tea lights on a dish and puts it on the dining table.

Candle in hand, he goes to get his phone on the coffee table in front of the TV. He leaves the candle for Retnüir in there and uses his phone to light up his path to the bedroom, where he digs out an old torchlight and some batteries.

Finally, he gets another one from his mother’s room and a lantern she kept on a shelf.

He gives Retnüir one of the torches.

“Let’s just have breakfast and head out. There’s no point in staying home if I have no lights or anything.”

Retnüir nods.

“Gotcha!” Khanuk half-shouts from the kitchen.

---

Laž’ar returns from school in the evening. They take the elevator and approach the door. They seem to be in a good mood, unlike how they felt in the morning.

When Laž’ar takes out the house key, Çetžak steps out of the shadows.

“Are you home now?”

Laž’ar jumps and stares at him with wide eyes over his shoulder.

“Did I startle you?” Çetžak can’t help but ask.

Laž’ar shakes their head, then takes a shaky breath.

“When will I get used to you sneaking up on me all the time?” They laugh. “You really have a knack for giving surprises.”

“My apologies.”

Laž’ar hurries over to him and takes his hand. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it! I think it’s cool. You’re like a ninja or assassin.”

“Not like a ghost?”

“Ah? Did what Ret and Khanuk say get to you? No, you’re not like a ghost if that’s not what you want to be like.” A twinkle appears in Laž’ar’s eyes, and he leans closer. “Would you haunt me if you were a ghost?”

“Yes,” Çetžak says without hesitation. It’s only natural. He wants to always be by Laž’ar’s side.

Laž’ar’s stunned, then laughs helplessly. “You really need more friends.”

No, he doesn’t.

He only needs Laž’ar by his side. He hasn’t been happy in so long, so why would he leave his happiness?

He doesn’t say this. Instead, he takes the key out of Laž’ar’s hand, feeling the warmth of their fingers like a pleasant wave. He puts the key into the lock. With a click, the door’s open, and he holds the door for Laž’ar.

“Thanks,” Laž’ar says cheerily as they enter their home.

“How was school today?”

Laž’ar puts away his bag and turns to Çetžak. “It was all right.”

He studies Çetžak for some time, then speaks again. “Would you like some new clothes? I’m too short, but we can go shopping for clothes.”

Çetžak contemplates this. There is still sun outside, if only a little, so he shakes his head. “Not right now. Perhaps in a little while. Do you wish to eat something first?”

“Sure! Want to eat together? I think there are still some leftovers from last night.”

Çetžak truly hasn’t had any appetite in many years, but seeing Laž’ar’s expression, his heart softens. He can’t help but agree.

He helps Laž’ar set the table, but when Laž’ar asks him to use the magic reheating device, he politely declines. He’s afraid he might break it, and he’s not sure what such a strange invention may cost.

Thus, Laž’ar handles the reheating and places a variety of foreign food on the plates.

He can’t say what it tastes like but he takes in the pure joy radiating from Laž’ar. It warms his cold limbs and makes him want to be closer. To soak in that warmth.

Whatever Laž’ar wants, Laž’ar should get. This person should be treated like royalty, spoiled by everyone like the country’s most beloved child.

But that’s not the case, Çetžak understands. That’s something he has to fix, he determines.

---

The sun has set by the time they’re finished, and it’s not long before the stores will close, but Laž’ar doesn’t mind. He doesn’t feel like Çetžak needs other clothes. He looks good in what he wears.

However, he also can’t allow anyone to bully him. Especially not his other friends.

He may have told Khanuk that Çetžak might like to wear this, but he feels it’s actually not that Çetžak likes it, as much as it’s the only thing he owns. His parents seem to have a peculiar taste.

Çetžak would likely be happy with whatever Laž’ar got him, so he’ll have to choose carefully. Perhaps some basics today, and then work from there, who knows?

They enter a shopping centre in the centre of the city. It’s one that stays open late and will do. Nothing particularly fancy or unique, but good enough.

“Are you good with jeans?” he asks as they enter a store.

“Yes.”

“Great!”

They go through the store to get to the men’s department, and Laž’ar immediately starts browsing the various designs, sometimes holding a pair of jeans up to determine if they’re good enough.

“What size are you?” he suddenly asks.

Çetžak doesn’t immediately reply. He then points at a pair. “That one.”

Laž’ar’s quiet for a moment, just staring at his friend. “How about we have you try them on to make sure?”

“We have little time, no? It is the size of that one, Laž’ar. I am certain.”

Laž’ar picks the pair up and checks the size. He’s hesitant, but he still chooses to believe that Çetžak somehow just knew. Perhaps he saw it before.

He picks a few pairs, then grabs Çetžak’s wrist. He jolts at first, but after the initial surprise has left him, Çetžak obediently follows along wherever Laž’ar brings him. He lets Laž’ar pick what he wants and only ever points at anything when Laž’ar asks for a size.

Perhaps he’s afraid of germs and doesn’t want to touch anything at the store?

Well, that’s all right.

They’re out within an hour, Laž’ar holding several bags of clothes. Not all are for his stealthy friend. On their way home, he doesn’t make Çetžak carry anything.

And Çetžak doesn’t offer to either.