Electric heart

Ghosts Disrupt Peace

have no choice i am so much sorry I can't hold back now Kai was thinking all those on terrace it was 5:00 am and the sun is set to rose at 6:00 am

On the other side
Iruka stepped out of his sleek black Nissan GTR, the rain hammering down like a vengeful spirit, soaking his clothes and plastering his hair beneath his mask and spectacles. “Ugh… ahhh,” he groaned, exhaustion seeping into every bone after a grueling day of ghost hunting. The deluxe luxury house loomed ahead, a beacon of peace—or so he thought. Before he could even reach the door, the night erupted into chaos. Flashes from 400 reporters’ cameras blazed through the darkness, blinding him as 720 journalists, 1,000 photographers, and a swarm of rabid fans descended like a horde of restless poltergeists.“Oh, come on,” Iruka muttered, rubbing his temples as the cacophony hit him full force. Questions flew from every direction, a relentless barrage that made his head spin.“Okay, okay, one at a time…” he said, forcing a half-smile and raising a hand to shield his eyes from the dazzling lights. But the crowd didn’t care for order—they were a mob possessed.“Iruka! You’ve been called the number one ghost hunter! What do you think makes you—” a reporter began, only to be drowned out by a fan waving a banner like a lunatic.“Iruka, do you ever get spooked by a ghost? Do you scream or stay cool?!”“I usually… stay cool… but—” Iruka tried, his voice faltering as another journalist barged in.“Do you ever feel like a ghost yourself, spending all that time hunting them? What do you—”From the back, a fan’s voice pierced the din: “Iruka! If ghosts had Instagram, what would their profile pics look like?!”Iruka blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “What? Instagram? They… I don’t—” he stammered, but a photographer cut him off, snapping photos like a machine gun.“Do ghosts prefer spooky old mansions, or do they haunt wherever they feel like? Have you ever—”“I’m not sure. I think they just go wherever… uh, never mind,” Iruka mumbled, already losing the thread.Another reporter shoved a microphone under his nose. “Any secret ghost-hunting techniques you’ve discovered that we don’t—”“If you could befriend one ghost, what kind would it be? Friendly or a prankster?!” a fan squealed, drowning out the question.“I’ve never thought about befriending a ghost. Most don’t… want friends,” Iruka said, clinging to politeness by a thread.A journalist grabbed his arm, spinning him around. “Your skills are legendary—how do you stay calm facing deadly spirits? Do you meditate or—”“What if ghosts are just misunderstood? Maybe they need love and a good hug instead of being hunted!” a fan shouted, brandishing a giant inflatable ghost.Iruka’s face twitched. “Love? Ghosts don’t need hugs. They don’t need anything,” he said, but the absurdity was piling up.“Do ghosts fall in love? Would you date a ghost? Like, a beautiful ghost—” another fan yelled, waving a sign that read, “Will You Marry Me, Iruka?”“No. I don’t… date ghosts. I—” Iruka started, his confusion mounting.“Have you ever had a ghost that didn’t want to be caught? Do you let them go free—” a reporter pressed, only to be interrupted again.“Do ghosts care about fashion? Like, what they wear when they haunt people?!” a fan screamed.“Fashion? Ghosts don’t wear anything—they’re—” Iruka tried, but the onslaught continued.“What’s the most unusual ghost you’ve encountered? Historical figure or just an angry spirit?” a journalist demanded.“The one that moved furniture was… strange, but—” Iruka began, only for a fan to grab his shoulder.“If you turned into a ghost for a day, would you scare your friends or cause chaos?!”“I don’t want to be a ghost. I just… need a break,” Iruka said, rubbing his face in defeat.“How do you feel about ghost-hunting merchandise? Haunted dolls or a ghost-hunting vacuum?!” a photographer shouted.“No, I wouldn’t endorse—” Iruka started, eyeing his door longingly.“If you could vacation without ghosts, where would you go?!” a fan bellowed.That was it. Iruka’s patience snapped like a brittle twig. “Hey, I gotta piss—can you please leave me alone?” he snapped.A reporter grinned, thrusting a bottle at him. “You can piss here—it’ll cost millions of dollars!”Iruka’s eyes widened in disbelief. “JUST SHUT UP! IT’S MY PERSONAL SPACE—LEAVE ME ALONE!” he roared, his voice echoing over the crowd. In a surge of desperation, he activated his powers, his body crackling with energy. Before anyone could blink, he was gone, a blur streaking through the rain-soaked streets at the speed of light, leaving the stunned mob in his dust.As Iruka bolted through the city, the world around him melted into a kaleidoscope of colors, but his mind was razor-sharp, buzzing with the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Ghosts on Instagram?” he thought, a manic laugh bubbling up. “What’s next—GhostTok? ‘Day in the afterlife: scaring kids, dodging exorcists, #PhantomVibes.’ I’d follow that.”He swerved around a lamppost, nearly clipping it in his haste. “These reporters are worse than any banshee. At least ghosts shut up when you banish them. Maybe I should start exorcising them. ‘Begone, ye nosy demons!’ Sprinkle some holy water and watch them scatter.”A smirk crept onto his face as he pictured it. “Headline: ‘Ghost Hunter Snaps, Douses Media in Holy Water.’ They’d probably turn it into a front-page exclusive.”He vaulted over a parked car, his thoughts veering darker. “Or I could fake my own death. Stage a dramatic ‘haunting accident,’ then come back as a ghost to terrorize them. ‘Boo, you hacks! Stop asking about my love life!’ Poetic justice, right there.”The dating question popped into his head, and he snorted. “Date a ghost? Sure, why not? She’d float through walls to ditch the bill, and I’d spend the night exorcising her exes. Romantic as hell.”He zipped past a group of pedestrians, who didn’t even flinch at the gust he left behind. “A ghost-hunting vacuum, though? That’s gold. Sucks up spirits like lint. ‘Specter Sucker 3000—now with extra haunt-busting power!’ I’d make millions and retire somewhere reporter-free.”