Of course, my luck is so shitty that I have to get woken up by a ghost on the first day of Golden Week.
Everything was going just fine before that. I'd settled into basketball practice and made it to the bench during the tryouts a while ago; I was getting the hang of my classes, and I'd made some new friends too!
And yet, here I am at four in the morning, sitting next to an equally confused Hiroshi (who has not told me his full name as of yet, nor if Hiroshi is even his real name) and staring at a sobbing girl who looks younger than Satoshi.
"Who is she?" I mouth.
"I don't know," Hiroshi mouths back.
"Um, can we help you?" I ask the girl, who doesn't look like she's going to stop crying anytime soon.
She just wails louder and buries her face in her hands.
"So, how can I see her?" I turn to Hiroshi, having absolutely no idea how the world of the dead works. I would have asked him earlier, but we reached an uneasy truce the other day that we'll only talk to each other if necessary, and stay out of each other's business while we try to figure out why we're cursed.
"It's probably because she's come to you for help. That's another way the living can see the dead: when the dead want to be seen."
The girl sobs even louder at this, and I realize it's time to use an age-old trick my dad used with me and Satoshi as toddlers. Use your words.
"Hey, I'd love to help you, but I can't do anything unless you tell me what's wrong," I advise gently.
I keep repeating this in different ways until she finally calms down and blows her nose. And let me tell you, ghosts blow their noses as noisily as the living do; it's not a pretty sight either way.
"What's your name?" Hiroshi asks, looking impressed at my people skills.
"M-M-Miyuki," the girl sniffs. "F-Fukuda Miyuki."
"Well, Miyuki," I take over, "what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"I-I don't remember," she whispers, and I can feel my own irritation. So I woke up at four in the morning for a ghost who doesn't remember why she's crying? Now what?
Hiroshi clearly senses my irritation, because he jumps into the conversation again. "Why did you come here for help?"
"I could sense a friendly aura h-here."
Friendly? Please, I'd kill Hiroshi if he wasn't already dead.
"What do you mean friendly aura?" Hiroshi is able to talk and hold me back at the same time, which is a good thing: I don't care if this is a kid, nobody messes with my sleep for no reason!
"It was like someone had been kind to a ghost here." Miyuki isn't sniffing anymore, fortunately; I don't want any ghost snot on my sheets.
"Who the hell was kind to a-mmf!" I'm about to rant again when Hiroshi claps a hand over my mouth.
"Don't. You'll upset her further," he whispers in my ear.
I push his hand off my face, but nod. I probably should calm down a little; my temper isn't helping anyone here.
"Okay, let's keep it at that," I mumble. "So, what did you need help with?"
"My boyfriend."
She has a boyfriend? Is that even possible when you're dead?
"W-well, he was my boyfriend when I was alive," Miyuki says, wiping her nose with a tissue Hiroshi gives her. "After I died, he fell into a really bad state, and now he's in danger."
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Hauntings
ParanormalFresh from four years abroad (see what I did there?), Ayame returns to her home town to settle into the life of a normal high school student. Of course, normal high school students don't get cursed and stuck with annoying ghosts right after they ret...