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For as long as he could remember, Fyodor has been able to see ghosts.
Ghosts are seldom vengeful or scary as portrayed in horror movies, very much similar to the living souls that walk past him every day. In fact, when he was little, he couldn’t differentiate between the living and the dead. He tried to chat with everyone alike—making the dead jealous when he chatted with the living and the living terrified when he talked to the invisible dead.
Over time, he decided to ignore the ghosts as much as he could. Or, at least the more avaricious ones doomed to be stuck between this world and the afterlife, their souls tied down by the mountains of their whims and desires left unfulfilled by their untimely deaths. Fyodor was gonna be the one to give up his ghost if he were to indulge their greed and ambitions.
Although some unadulterated souls lingered because of a single unfinished task, a single thread anchoring them to the mortal world. In such cases, he sometimes silently helped them out.
Such as, the mom who wanted to say a few words of farewell to her orphaned kid and guide her to the passbook that’d help to secure her future.
The young girl who wanted her dad to know that it wasn’t his fault she died and that he should move on instead of wasting away on liquor and smoking.
The little boy from the countryside who wanted to go on a final rollercoaster ride in the city. Don’t ask any details on how Fyodor was screaming his head off while the kid happily clapped his hands because he didn’t have to cling on for dear life.
Long story short, he had gotten plenty used to his life as a medium. Even then, after all the predicaments he faced in high school because of his ability, he was determined not to repeat the same in college. He didn’t want to stand out as ‘the weird kid who could see ghosts’ anymore. Accepting that this is just part of his life, he was determined to pass as a normal kid and have a normal college life. Also the reason why he chose not to stay in the dorms but go live in a studio apartment. Educational institutions and hospitals are the epicenters of spectral density and he didn’t want to deal with all of their problems when he had tons himself. Not that he doesn’t sympathize with the kids who ended their lives untimely but he won’t be able to help out all of them anyway. In case he tried to listen to one, the others, realizing he communed with the dead, would flock to him to get him to help them as well.
After all, the ghosts were humans once. No human is exempt from creating a hundred problems for themselves. Humans are weak, miserable, resentful creatures that don’t let go of these emotions even in death.
The same can’t be said for the ghost in his apartment though. Oh yeah, Fyodor moved out of the dorms to a nearby studio apartment to avoid contact with ghosts and now, he is forced to put up with the most annoying ghost he has ever met in his life. He has a major hunch that this ghost is the reason many tenants vacated this apartment so quickly and the reason why the landowner was ready to lease it to him at a suspiciously cheap rate. The guy must have been quite a looker in his heyday, what with those doe eyes, soft brown locks flopping over them and a charming attitude, he must have been able to get away with pretty much anything. Fyodor wondered what might be the cause of his death. It was hard to say with the numerous bandages on his body, whether or not he died in an accident or took his own life.
Well, nowadays, since he can’t do much as a ghost, he kicks in his pent-up energy in all sorts of petty tricks.
Such as, moving around the furniture in hopes of Fyodor tripping and falling over so he’d have a good laugh, the sadist that he is.
Switching through the channels for no reason. Till Fyodor switched off the television altogether. Guess the ghost was disappointed at his blasé reaction? For the rest of the evening, he was curled up on the couch, pouting, grumbling and boring holes in the back of his head.
Or, when he had stuck onto the ceiling above the genkan waiting for him to return from his classes. Had it been anyone else, they would have jumped out of their skin at the impact but Fyodor had already spotted the mischievous grin and the porcelain vase in his hand ready to be dropped as soon as he entered. Still, he gave a slight start to appease the overhanging ghost. He seemed delighted with the result judging from the following smug snickers.
Or, the many times he’d stretch out beside him on his bed or pop some part of his body through the pages of the book he was reading. For the non-seers, this probably appears as a gust of wind. Might freak out a more fanciful person, though.
Worst case scenario, when he would randomly turn on the music player and fiddle with the knobs. Compared to his other mischiefs, this is the most exasperating. Fyodor’s playlist is full of Russian songs. Now, this is a language unfamiliar to the ghost but it doesn’t stop him from picking up a few words off the chorus. Not two minutes of preparation later, he was mangling the song—humming the verse, completely off-key and joining the chorus with the few words he ‘learnt’ so that the entire piece sounded like drunk dogs drowning in a washing machine.
After some days of sharing the house with an uninvited housemate, Fyodor started to suspect that the ghost suspected he could see him.
When his classes were shifted to the online mode for a few periods, he had to attend them with an idiot beside him, pulling faces at his professor on-cam, making jokes about everything being taught. It took him everything to not burst into laughter in the middle of the class and get muted by the prof.
It only got worse from that point. The other day, Fyodor was making dinner and the guy had perched on the island behind him. Out of nowhere, he lamented the lack of crabs in his diet and leapt down to dance around, passing comments and tapping his ‘perky’ ass whenever he passed by him.
Great, worse than maintaining a poker face, now he gotta try not to flinch at his actions or blush at his words. Is there any law that prosecutes a ghost for groping his ass?
Fyodor is working on his essay on his laptop, seated on the floor, his head resting against the side of the ottoman while the nuisance of the apparition is at it once again—happily butchering his favorite classical song as he twerks to it on top of the ottoman, just two inches from his head.
And suddenly, he can take it no more.
He slams the laptop shut and springs to his feet. “That’s enough!” he snaps, his forefinger jabbed into the ghost’s forehead. “Get out of my house! Now!”
The ghost has the nerve to look confused. “Wait, are you—” he looks this way and that as if there is anyone in the house other than him. “Wait, you are talking to me? How is it possible?! I did all the tests on you and you passed them all?”
Fyodor lowers his forefinger in his confusion. “Tests? What do you mean?”
“Oh-o, so I was right after all, huh?” He sits up on the ottoman now. “I had a fleeting suspicion you could see me so I tried to provoke you in different ways but you didn’t fall for any of my plans. So, I imagined you have more guts than most people in a haunted house or more likely, you are just that oblivious.”
Fyodor raised a brow at the cheekiness of this ghost. It must be his awful personality that wards off other ghosts from invading this house.
“So, you can see me after all?” he goes on. “Hear me too?”
“Well, duh. Been seeing ghosts from forever. I just wish you’d leave the house. You are too noisy for real, jeez! I can’t take it anymore!”
“Ah, sorry.” He doesn’t sound so sorry. “I’m just having fun ‘cuz that’s pretty much what I can do now, stuck in this world and all, you know.” Gaslighting Fyodor into feeling bad for him? Wow. “A normal person won’t have seen me so I can talk to myself however loud I want.” A jab at him implying he isn’t normal. The nerves of this ghost! “Well, I will keep that in mind from now on. I am Dazai, by the way. Dazai Osamu.” He thrusts out a hand for Fyodor to shake. Of course, his ghostly skin fades on coming in contact with living skin. “Nice to meet you~”
The Russian fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Fyodor Dostoyevsky.”
Once Fyodor had set some boundaries and Dazai got used to living with a human who can see and hear him (in other words, he won’t be able to holler around the house or twerk on his bed anymore) and both learnt how not to piss off the other, they got along surprisingly well.
Fyodor seems to have a lot of topics of common interest with the ghost and he doesn’t know if this is a good thing or bad. Over the days, he realizes that he is actually enjoying the company of this stupid ghost, loud and flirty that he is. Yeah, flirty sadly. Fyodor almost wishes he hadn’t lost his patience that day and outed his secret to the guy. His promise to ‘keep that in mind’ aka keep his nuisance down translates to permission for shameless flirting, apparently. Now, he climbs right next to him while he is working, crosses his legs and sings shitty love songs into his ears, peppered with winks and smirks when the human blushes. Dazai is a good singer when he needs to but he must glean special glee in abusing Fyodor’s eardrums. The guy is such a tease that he manages to sneak in innuendos even in their occasional game of chess or poker.
It is one of those days when they were sprawled on the couch, watching the reruns of Sherlock, when his eyes momentarily studied Dazai’s sharp profile, bright eyes and exquisite lips that he realized he really likes him when he wasn't being purposely irritating. With that followed the more horrifying realization—wow, he is in love with a ghost.
The semester came to an end, quicker and more enjoyable than how Fyodor perceived at first. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud and give the other a bigger ego than he can handle but yeah, his roommate has helped him a lot to make his stay in a foreign country much more bearable than it was before he met him. He has tried his best to mingle with the humans yet he doesn’t have any success in making human friends. Eventually, he gave up, satisfied with his life as long as he doesn’t stand out as the center of attraction.
The only kid in his class who seemed remotely interested in him was Ranpo (who probably thinks of him as a good subject for his deductions)—and now, the same guy is presently seated before him in his apartment, sucking on a lollipop and shooting little darting glances in every direction. Fyodor had long suspected the reason Ranpo was working with him on their end semester project had more to do with satisfying his suspicions of his secret powers than actual interest in being his study pal or something but he didn’t mind. If he had to pass this semester, he had to work with Ranpo and his group consisting of the shy Poe and the loud Mushitarou. And Dazai, who has taken his place by Fyodor’s side, curiously studying all the sheets of calculations spread out on the low study table. And the ever-suffering Fyodor, who has to focus on the project before him and tune out this stupid ghost’s stupid remarks.
Finally, Ranpo catches on to what he’s come for. “So, the ghost is here, right?” He points a dramatic forefinger to the deliberate gap between him and Fyodor where yes, Dazai had wedged himself. A normal human won’t know about an apparition’s presence next to them and would have simply sat down on it but Fyodor couldn’t bring himself to close the gap around the table. “Good grief, leave it to you to have a crush on a ghost!”
The–what?! “What did you say?!” Dazai has an interested pout on his face too, eager to know whatever Ranpo was saying, much to Fyodor’s annoyance.
Ranpo heaves a heavy sigh. “Elevated pulse rate, erratic breathing patterns, generally cold impassive face becoming a lot more expressive and gaining color when you are around him—points to you having a crush on him. I came here curious to find out whether my deductions are right... I have to give it to you to throw a curveball even for the greatest detective in the world! I never deduced a ghost to be your crush.”
At the same time, Dazai perks up, “You have a crush on me?!”
“SHUT UP!”
Fyodor isn’t sure whether his words are for Ranpo or Dazai. Briefly he considers murdering Ranpo to preserve his secret, but that’d mean adding one more annoying ghost to his apartment and he is not for it. So, he simply buries his face in his hands, guilty as charged while Dazai prances around, happily and obnoxiously singing, “Fedya has a crush on me~!”