Chapter Text
The house was small, with two rooms and a kitchen, and overall not in the best shape. Every floorboard creaked, most of the doors didn’t seem to close all the way, and the backyard was overrun with weeds and vines. It was impressive, in a sense.
“I want it,” said Kuroo.
His declaration was met with a brief silence on his friend’s part.
“Uh, you were listening to me, right?” said Bokuto. “When I said it was haunted?”
“Hah,” said Kuroo. “If there’s one thing I know for certain in this world, it’s that there is absolutely no such thing as ghosts.”
And so it was that a month later, on a chilly autumn morning, Kuroo was hauling his belongings over the bent porch of this supposedly haunted house--and his new home.
“Are you sure about this?” said Bokuto, who had come over with a couple of other friends to help him move in.
“Bokuto, it’s only natural for a twenty-something guy to want his own place. It was about time I got out of that shitty apartment downtown anyway,” said Kuroo. “This part of town is quieter, and it’s still close to the station.”
“Maybe it’s quieter for a reason,” suggested Kenma, who had, predictably, spent the entire morning sitting on the new couch with his cell phone out.
“Oh, not you too,” groaned Kuroo.
“They say that the spirit of a child who was murdered by his own brother haunts this house,” said Bokuto.
“There is no such thing as ghosts!”
“While I do agree with you on that,” put in Akaashi, “do you really plan on living like this? You could at least try to clear out the, uh, garden in the back.”
“What? Of course I’m going to get some restoration done,” said Kuroo with a scoff. “Do I look like a caveman to you?”
“You lived with a leaky roof in that other apartment for nearly three years because it was apparently ‘too much trouble’ to get it fixed,” Kenma remarked without even looking up from his phone.
“That was one thing,” said Kuroo. “And it only rains, like, twice a year.”
“Yeah--all of winter, and all of spring,” snorted Bokuto, and Akaashi hid a smile behind his hand.
“The point is that this place is good, and I like it, and I’ve already forked over the down payment anyway so there’s really no going back,” said Kuroo.
“Well, I suppose as long as you’re happy there’s no point in trying to change your mind,” said Akaashi.
“Let’s go get some lunch!” said Bokuto. “I’m starving.”
“Sounds good,” said Kuroo, grabbing his coat. “Kenma?”
“Mm,” said Kenma, putting his phone down. “I’m kind of tired. Think I’ll take a nap.”
“We’ll bring something back for you, then,” said Kuroo, and they headed out.
There was a little diner about a mile down the street that Kuroo had visited already a couple of times. Bokuto had insisted they walk for the sake of some fresh air after having inhaled probably “a billion dust particles” at the house, and Kuroo pointed out a couple of the neighboring homes as they passed them by.
“Met that one already,” he said. “Always smiling nervously like he’s hiding something, but he’s a nice guy.”
“Hey, I remember that one,” said Bokuto, pointing to another. “We went there once on a case to question a victim’s relative or something, right, Akaashi?”
Akaashi nodded. “She was a nice old woman with an odd habit of collecting porcelain cats, if I recall correctly.”
“This place is great,” said Kuroo as they arrived at the diner, a dingy little establishment tucked into the corner of the town’s main plaza. “The owners are real good guys, introduced me to the agent who set me up with the house--oh, there’s one of them right there.”
Sugawara, a man around Kuroo’s age with light hair and kind eyes, smiled at them as they entered. “Well, if isn’t Detective Kuroo! Did you get moved in all right?”
“Just Kuroo is fine while I’m off duty,” said Kuroo. “Suga-san, this is Bokuto and Akaashi, from one of the nearby precincts.”
“And you’re all detectives? Wow,” said Sugawara. “This part of town’s real quiet, so we don’t get a lot of police activity, you know? Well, there was the incident a few years ago...”
Bokuto’s eyes widened. “Ooh, are you talking about the homicide case that happened in--”
“Bokuto-san,” warned Akaashi quietly.
Sugawara laughed. “I imagine Kuroo-san has grown tired of hearing this. My apologies.”
“It’s fine,” said Kuroo, shrugging. Talking about ghosts and the like didn’t make them real.
“Anyway, how about some drinks?” said Sugawara, pulling out his notepad. “And an appetizer on the house to celebrate your moving in!”
Lunch was an unexpectedly busy affair: everyone who passed through the diner seemed to recognise Kuroo, and there were many greetings exchanged. The people were good-natured and cheerful, and almost all of them offered him their contact information, urging him to call if he ever needed anything.
“Looks like you’re going to be pretty popular around here,” said Bokuto after the crowd had died down and Kuroo had saved the last number (from a construction worker named Tanaka who promised a discount if he hired his company to restore the house).
“No one’s moved into this area for years,” said Sugawara as he collected their plates. “It’s lonely, in a way, even when we have each other.”
“Not a single person?” said Akaashi. “Is it because of the rumours surrounding that house?”
Sugawara nodded, sighing softly. “It was really just a rumour a bunch of the kids started after the incident, but you know how these things get blown out of proportion so easily, especially as time passes.”
“Ace Detective Bokuto here was quick to eat it up,” said Kuroo with a grin, and Bokuto had the decency to blush.
“Well, we’re just glad that you’re here, Kuroo-san, whatever it was that convinced you to come,” said Sugawara. “You guys up for ordering some dessert?”
“Yes!” Bokuto replied immediately, but Kuroo held up a hand.
“Sorry, hold that thought.” Kuroo frowned at the caller ID on his phone; Kenma hated talking on the phone and only called when he needed something urgently.
“Kenma?”
The beat of silence that followed was unnaturally quiet, as if Kenma was holding his breath. Then--
“Someone’s here,” said Kenma softly.
Kuroo’s heart rate spiked at the way Kenma’s voice shook. “Kenma, where are you? Are you still at the house?”
“I’m in the bedroom,” Kenma whispered. “I saw something pass by the door and I thought it was you, but…”
“Lock the door right now,” ordered Kuroo, rising from his seat and dropping a few bills onto the table. Akaashi apologized quietly to Sugawara and the three of them left the diner, breaking into a sprint once they reached the sidewalk. “We’re coming, okay? Don’t move.”
“Don’t hang up,” said Kenma. “I think I just saw them pass by again.”
“I won’t, just try to stay quiet,” said Kuroo. “We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Th-they’re standing in front of the door--” Kenma cut himself off with a yelp.
“Kenma? Kenma!”
The line was silent.
“Shit!” Kuroo ran faster, praying fervently for Kenma to be all right.
The front door was unlocked, and Kuroo cursed himself for his stupidity as he raced towards the bedroom, wishing he had his gun. When the bedroom door refused to budge, Kuroo growled “dammit,” before ramming it right off its hinges.
“Hands up!” he shouted out of habit and scanned the room, ready to detain the intruder.
Kenma was alone in the room, lying prone on the bed.
“Shit,” Kuroo said again, checking him for injuries.
He was unscathed, as far as Kuroo could tell, and he was breathing steadily as if asleep.
“Hey.” Kuroo tapped Kenma’s cheek to wake him. “Come on, come on…”
“House is clear,” called Bokuto, and a moment later Akaashi reported the same of the surrounding property.
As Bokuto and Akaashi entered the bedroom, Kenma’s eyes fluttered open. “Kuroo…?” he mumbled.
“Oh, thank god,” said Kuroo, pulling him into a hug. “What the hell happened?”
“I--there was someone here,” said Kenma, putting a hand to his head. “A kid.”
“A kid?”
“He was tall, but I’m sure he was a at least younger than me,” insisted Kenma. “He was wearing glasses, I think.”
Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “You fainted at the sight of some high school nerd?”
“It wasn’t that,” said Kenma, scowling at Kuroo. “Something weird happened, and… Tetsurou, I swear I’m telling the truth here, okay?”
“What? Of course,” said Kuroo, but for some reason he grew anxious.
Kenma glanced over to the entrance of the bedroom, where the door lay on the ground. “That door was closed when you came, right?”
Kuroo nodded.
“I locked it--I know I did,” said Kenma. “But he still came in somehow. I remember seeing the shadow from underneath the door, and then I blinked and he was in the room, like--well, like he passed through the wall.”
Bokuto gasped. “The ghost!”
Kuroo frowned, trying to stomach his friend’s testimony. If this were someone other than Kenma, he would have assumed they were joking and insisted on hearing the truth, but this was Kenma, and he didn’t play these kinds of pranks.
“Okay,” said Kuroo slowly, looking around the room. Two windows, one of them unlocked but netted, and a bathroom that connected with the second room. “You’re sure he didn’t come in some other way?”
Kenma shook his head. “It happened too quickly.”
“There could have been two people,” said Akaashi.
“...Maybe,” conceded Kenma, although he looked unconvinced.
“You should go home for now,” said Kuroo. “We’ll get this figured out.”
“I’ll take you back,” offered Akaashi, leading him out of the room.
Kuroo sighed, finally letting the tension drain from his system as he watched Akaashi drive off with Kenma in tow.
“Nothing was stolen,” said Bokuto. “Could be that there were kids using this place as a hideout and came in today without realising the house had been bought.”
“Yeah,” said Kuroo, having come to the same conclusion.
“It could have also been a ghost--”
“No, it really couldn’t have.”
“You gonna report it?”
Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it probably was just a couple of kids. They won’t be back. Thanks for helping out, man. You should go home and get some rest.”
“All right. Be careful tonight, okay?” said Bokuto, and Kuroo could tell that he wasn’t making a joke about the ghost.
He nodded. “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
Kuroo spent the rest of the evening inspecting the house, trying to find anything abnormal, but the state of the building made it difficult to determine what was odd and what was simply in poor shape.
He gave up after several hours of uncovering nothing substantial and was pondering his next step on the couch when there was a knock at his door (the doorbell was broken).
Sawamura, the other owner of the diner they’d been to earlier, stood on his porch with a plastic bag of food containers. He was shorter than Kuroo, but had a solid sort of look about him, like if he decided to stand in one spot without moving then he would stay in that spot and there was nothing you could do about it short of bringing out a lifting crane. He always looked at everyone with the same intensely focused gaze, as if he was constantly searching for a weak point. If Kuroo didn’t specialize in dealing with criminals he might have been intimidated by him.
All in all, he was a pretty nice guy.
“Koushi said you ran off in the middle of your meal this afternoon. Hope everything’s all right,” said Sawamura.
“Oh--yeah, everything’s fine now,” said Kuroo. “I wasn’t expecting this. Thank you.”
Sawamura shrugged. “It’s all food you paid for.”
“Tell Suga-san I’m really sorry for running out on him like that. I’ll definitely go in for a proper meal next time,” said Kuroo.
“He’ll be ecstatic,” said Sawamura. “Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, okay?”
“Of course,” said Kuroo, and as Sawamura turned to leave, a terrible thought popped into his head. “Actually, can I ask you something?”
“Hm? Sure.”
“The boy who...used to live in this house,” said Kuroo. “Did you know him?”
Sawamura’s expression twisted, and Kuroo regretted opening his mouth.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
“No, it’s all right. No one could blame you for being curious,” said Sawamura. He suddenly looked rather tired, as people who became sad tended to. “I was captain of the volleyball team during my third year in high school. He joined the club as a first year. Tall, dyed his hair, always had a smug smile on his face...but he actually turned out to be a real good kid.”
Sawamura shook his head. “He left too soon.”
“I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories,” said Kuroo.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Sawamura. “We all remember him fondly.”
“I’ll take care of this house,” promised Kuroo. “Thank you for your time.”
“We owe you our gratitude as well,” said Sawamura with a smile. “You’re the first person in a long time who’s treated Tsukishima like more than just an urban legend.”
“Was that his name?”
Sawamura nodded. “Tsukishima Kei.”
And in that moment, it was as if someone had taken a branding iron and seared it into Kuroo’s brain, as if telling him, Never forget this name. It frightened him, but he didn’t let it show.
“I’ll remember it,” he said truthfully. “Goodnight, Sawamura-san.”
-:-
The food was good, and freshly made judging by how it was still piping hot when Kuroo opened the containers. Just what had he done to deserve such kindness?
Okay, no more of this haunted house business, he decided as he ate. I owe it to these people.
After dinner, he banished all thoughts of the (nonexistent) ghost boy and set about arranging a schedule for the next few days to get some work done. He would probably call Tanaka’s company tomorrow to get the renovation plans started, then do some grocery shopping in the afternoon on the way back from work…
A chill ran down Kuroo’s back and he glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to see something there, but the room was empty.
“No more ghost business,” he reminded himself as he turned back to his desk. “Because ghosts don’t exist, much less the lingering spirit of a high school boy--”
“I’m not a high schooler, you know.”
“Fuck--” Kuroo jolted so hard in his seat he overbalanced and sent himself sprawling onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide and searching--
A young man stood in the center of his room, mere feet away, with a crooked smile on his face. Well--perhaps “stood” wasn’t an entirely accurate term to use. He had feet for sure, covered in a pair of ordinary-looking sneakers, but the way they were very clearly floating several inches off the ground was definitely and without a doubt very not ordinary.
“W-w-w-what,” said Kuroo, backing away slowly and reaching for his gun belt.
“Whoa,” said the boy, holding up his hands. “Already dead.”
“You’re not a ghost,” said Kuroo, although he pulled away from the gun. “Ghosts don’t exist.”
“So you’re one of those people, huh,” said the levitating boy who was definitely not Tsukishima Kei’s ghost.
“Can you prove that you’re not just some kid hanging from the ceiling with wire? I’ve seen shit like that before, believe me,” said Kuroo.
Not-Tsukishima’s-Ghost raised an eyebrow, then began drifting (God have mercy) towards Kuroo.
Kuroo put a hand up. “No-no-no-no, I’m sure you can find a way to do it without having to come any closer.”
The stranger looked unimpressed, but Kuroo didn't have it in him at the moment to be embarrassed or offended, for in one swift motion the not-ghost glided up through the ceiling, disappearing completely.
“Okay,” said Kuroo, struggling to register what he had just witnessed. “There is definitely an explanation for this.”
“Yeah: I’m a ghost,” replied a disembodied voice.
A moment later, Kuroo fainted dead away at the sight of a human head emerging from the ground and woke up the next morning with vague recollections of an exceptionally strange dream and a terrible crick in his neck.