Ghost in the Closet

Kirigiri's Plan

He twisted the note over in his latex-gloved hand, the plastic rustling with each movement. Saihara could hear the giggle through the note's words.

Watch your back, Detective! ~T

Sighing, Saihara resisted the urge to crumple the note in his hand and slam it onto his kitchen counter. Taking a deep breath, he gently placed it on the kitchen counter instead, knowing he couldn't damage any evidence. He began fiddling with the black gloves, watching the latex flex with each movement of his hands.

Just as he began mentally whining about his boredom, a loud crash startled the man. Saihara jumped from the stool, his head flicking toward the bathroom so fast that it should've snapped. Slowly approaching the closed bathroom door, Saihara clenched his fists and prepared for a fight as he shoved it open, slamming the handle into the wall.

Stepping inside, he frowned upon seeing no one. He opened each cabinet door but found nothing abnormal. He'd never think anyone else was inside his home unless he knew any different. On the floor lay a rock, shards of glass littered around it. Saihara sighed in relief that only his window broke.

Before he could continue investigating, the doorbell rang. The home's occupant hummed and turned around to survey his surroundings. He needed to adapt and mould to any situation, no matter what happened. No one would hurt him. Even though this was so boring that Saihara would enjoy watching some paint dry instead, he kept his composure and acted like the scared victim he was supposed to be.

Approaching the front door, Saihara reached out and hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the metal handle. Abruptly, he shoved it open and prepared for an attack. No one stood on the other side. Stepping outside, he glanced around without moving from the safety of his doorway, not noticing any human movement. Surely some neighbourhood kids hadn't ding dong ditched, right? There was no note and no human life besides him, so Saihara shrugged and closed the door.

Crossing his arms, the man hummed to himself as he tried to make heads or tails of the torment. Saihara didn't have much time to think before a faint tapping caught his attention. He managed to locate the tapping in his laundry room. As he entered the room, he pulled a small blade from his pocket and slowly approached the window. Using his free hand, he swung open the curtain and the tapping ceased.

He flung open the window and stuck his head out, seeing nothing. Without giving him a chance to think, the doorbell rang again. Saihara groaned and hurried to slide his window shut, rushing to the door and yanking it open whilst gripping his weapon tighter.

"For fuck's sake!" He cried as he was, again, faced with nothing. Glaring at the air, Saihara glanced around before noticing a rock holding a piece of paper on the porch. Carefully picking up the note, he frowned and mumbled as he read the note.

"Was that game of cat and mouse fun? Maybe next time we can meet. Without your other detective friends. ~T"

Sighing in defeat, he slammed the door behind him and returned to the kitchen. "That plan's a bust," he called into the seemingly empty home. Many doors opened, revealing some of his coworkers who frowned at him. This wasn't part of the plan. Slipping the new note into a fresh plastic evidence bag, Saihara handed it around to his gloveless coworkers.

"All for nothing," Yumeno Himiko drawled. "What a pain..."

"Don't be sad, Himiko!" Chabashira Tenko cried as she hugged her short, red-haired wife. Saihara cringed as they shared a brief kiss. He never felt such strong affection toward someone before and couldn't help but envy other couples. 

He wondered what it'd be like to love someone or to care enough to put his life on the line for someone else. Saihara would do almost anything for his friends, but self-sacrifice wasn't something he thought about first. Sure, he'd kill someone for his friends, but not himself. If someone pointed a gun at them, he'd rather kill the shooter than jump into the bullet's path.

Occasionally he killed partners in crime. Every single time without fail, one would try to protect the other with their life, granting their partner time to run. They never succeeded, Saihara was smart enough to predict every possible outcome after years of experience. Each time was as entrancing as the other for the serial killer. Would he ever find that kind of connection with someone? Was there anyone out there who he'd kill himself to help?

"You're all idiots," the man scoffed. He entered his bedroom and grabbed his laptop, opening it up as he returned to the kitchen. His coworkers watched over his shoulder as he opened up his security system, finding the latest video. Skipping through it, Saihara stopped when he noticed a flash of black and hurried to backpedal. Everyone watched as something covered the camera before something shattered off-screen. Flicking through each camera, they realised each one ended up covered before something happened.

Groaning, Saihara slammed the laptop shut in frustration. "We tried," Kirigiri sighed.

"Ugh!" Iruma cried. "I'm gonna go fuck my girlfriend to destress. Later bitches." Saihara glared as she left. He didn't want the bitch anywhere near his house but he couldn't go against Kirigiri's orders.

"Let's all go home. Thank you for being here, and thank you Saihara." Kirigiri nodded as she departed, soon followed by everyone. Saihara followed them outside, watching them leave before proceeding to each camera and gently removing the duct tape.

He entered his home and squeezed the duct tape into a ball. A shrill laughter filled his ears as Ouma materialised before him. "You did well," Saihara muttered. "Thanks."

"Now you gotta reward me!" The ghost teased. He grinned, leaning close enough to Saihara that their noses almost touched. Maybe they did, Ouma was close enough for Saihara's face to begin freezing. Due to the mischievous ghost's lack of care for personal space, the cold didn't faze Saihara anymore.

"Fine," the human sighed. "As we agreed." He threw the ball of duct tape into a garbage can and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms. When discussing a plan, Ouma would only do his part if he got something in return. That something he requested happened to be information and Saihara thought it fair. "I'm a murderer. Got off on self-defence but there was quite a bit of backlash; people think I shouldn't have been let free. It makes me the perfect candidate for the Tokyo Terminator."

Ouma's eyes sparkled as he gasped. Saihara smiled at the sight. "That's why you're a serial killer?! Cool!"

"No." Saihara frowned as his cheeks flushed when Ouma tilted his head. How could someone be so adorable without any effort? Rolling his eyes, the man tried to regain his apathy. He needed to get over this stupid sickness before someone got the wrong idea. "I kill for the people who can't get revenge. The justice system is a mess, it fails the victims and they deserve to be given closure. What I went through... He deserved to die, no matter if it was an accident or not."

The ghost's face darkened as he giggled, but this time it sounded malicious rather than childish. A smirk spread across his lips and Saihara began smiling in return. "Saihara. You're the best roommate I've ever had."